Vikings Never Learn to Fly
by ShhSleepy
Summary: Hiccup always thought that if he disappeared from Berk- no one would look down long enough to see he was no longer running under their boots. But for once in his life- he is surviving for two. If anything ever happened to him- if he was ever taken from Toothless- the dragon would never fly again. And perhaps Hiccup's wings can be clipped as well. Hiccup capture/bashing
1. Little Sparrow

_**I am absolutely in love with the story of How To Train Your Dragon. I only just saw it the other day and I wish I had seen it sooner. For now- it remains my new obsession and so of course I need to write a story! =D Originally a one shot, this will be a several chapter story. My chapters are short but full (like a little teapot ^^) and I hope I did the characters some justice in my writing. Be prepared though! Will be some Hiccup bashing!**_

_**Please REVIEW! Very important to hear what you have to say! Good, bad, and ugly! Make my day. =)**_

**_Read, Review, ENJOY!_**

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_A war will wage as it wages,_

_When wages are no longer equally gave._

_And send these people waging wars,_

_Into early graves._

_Tremble from the skies that fall,_

_With eyes that pray despise,_

_But as the war wages wars._

_The littlest sparrow learns to fly._

They were the lines of a poem I had seen scrawled on the walls of Berk, hidden away in a chamber rarely used by the people of my town. Those were not Viking words. Not the normal scribbles and scrawls left by my ancestors before me. If I even counted to be a part of the same bloodline at all. I was the least bit Viking left on the island. Even so- the words were relatable enough to call even me to their meanings. While others sang of the rough and tough life of Berk…

…I was thinking of the littlest sparrow.

I suppose I wasn't only a failure at a Viking physically. Even mentally I was a few hammers short.

It was a story about perseverance. They were words that depicted a character that did not have the broad or brawn of a normal Viking that would be able to soar just as high, claim just as much admiration as any other man on the island! A story of a little sparrow- just like me. It sounded even dumber out loud than it did in my head. I knew by the look Toothless had given me when I had first recited the words to him. As sad as it was that I was taking advice from a giant reptile, Toothless was my best friend and as my best friend, he reserved the right to smack me upside the head when I made a fool of myself. Be it with the back of a hand, or a 14 foot tail.

Even so, they were words I kept deep inside my mind. It was dumb, but of every song and poem chanted throughout Berk- it was the only one that someone like me could relate to. They were the words of perhaps the single ancestor in all of Berk that would have accepted me as something more than just a _Hiccup_.

Alas, that was my life. I was a Hiccup and no matter how tall I stood or how far I puffed out my chest, I would remain the runt until the very day I died. And considering how most of the girls my age wielded _swords_ heavier than me, I was starting to accept I would remain alone until the day I died as well.

Toothless' leathery black wings opened underneath me and we rose higher into the clouds, the dampness of the sky prickling my face and cooling the sweat on my brow. The dragon gave a cheerful roar, tilting its massive head backwards to watch a couple birds circle us before coasting back down towards the land below. We followed the little birds, close enough to the island that if he stretched far enough, Toothless would brush the ground with his talons. The world flew by in a rush of colors and sounds, washing away like a painting left in the rain and I couldn't help but let out a laugh.

With the grin only a Night Fury could claim, Toothless glanced back at me with big green eyes, wide and playful with chirps of pleasure deep in his throat.

I grinned back and patted him on the back, smooth scales like polished steal under my fingertips. "Let's get out of here, boy."

He didn't need to be told twice. With a couple starting flaps and the tilt of his body, we were shooting through the air with the swiftness of an arrow.

I would never be a true Viking. I knew it by the words my father spoke when he thought I was not listening. I knew I was not a Viking by the looks the villagers gave me when I volunteered to put myself in the lines of battle. I knew I was not a Viking by the dreams that haunted my sleep. Dreams in which I was born into a world I did not belong, only to wake to find the nightmares true. In every part of my life- I was no Viking. I was not a son of my father. But I was a dragon trainer and for this reason alone, I was not dead weight for the island of Berk. I was somebody. Even if that somebody was not a Viking. I was somebody.

I tilted my leg in my stirrup and the tail flap I had installed on Toothless narrowed, aiming us for a smooth landing on a rock formation far below. It was a movement I knew I made only from memory, but a movement I could not feel I had even made. If I felt anything at all in my left leg, it was in the hours after my sleep, daydreaming of rolling out of bed and putting on my boots in the morning like I had every day of my life. All put to rest when I woke to attach a metal prosthetic to my kneecap. The prosthetic was strong. It fit well and I was gracious it had been the only thing I had lost. But now it seemed more a part of me than my own two hands. But it was only an extension of my body. It was not me. I would never be really whole. There was very little I missed out on without my leg. After all- how many men and women on Berk were missing limbs just as I did? But in the back of my head there was always a voice of fear. This time I had lost my leg. What next?

We landed lightly on the top of the rock I had aimed for and I slid off of his back. The ocean stretched for miles in all directions from here, Berk lay still in the shadows far off and only the blemishes of mountainous rocks scarred the water's silk. Beside me, even Toothless was silent as I let my body fall back to lie in the patch of grass, arms stretched out like wings at my sides. Staring at the blue sky from atop our stone pedestal rising from the ocean, nothing could touch me. Could touch us.

I was not surviving for only myself anymore. There was a time I had believed that if I had disappeared, no one would even notice me gone. No one would look down long enough to even realize little Hiccup was no longer running around trying to avoid their feet. But now, it was different. I was not surviving for myself. I was surviving for Toothless. Gobber had once told me that if you keep a dragon from flying- it was as good as dead. I knew someone would take care of Toothless if anything ever did happen. I knew Astrid or maybe even my own father would take the Night Fury under their wing. Under their wing. Excuse the dragon pun. But in all seriousness, I was more scared for Toothless than I was even for myself.

We were a team. Without me, he was grounded. Without him, I was just… me.

I was wrong. I wouldn't be alone forever. As long as I had Toothless- I would never be alone.

My leg was a bit sore and I grunted, undoing the straps that held it to what was left of my left leg. I didn't miss out on much without the leg. But it did ache after a long day. I set the prosthetic aside and rubbed at the stump, frowning at the damaged appendage. I was handicapped. Wasn't that the very last thing that Stoic the great needed. If that wasn't the icing on the cake I didn't know what was. Now not only was I small and disappointing, the last of his kind, the only remaining gift from a long passed wife, but I was broken.

I pressed my palms into my eyes hard until I saw spots in the blackness. I was only being dramatic. I was somebody. He was proud of me. My father really did love me. I took another look at the disfigured limb and couldn't help the frown. It was a shame it had taken such a calamity to make him see me.

Toothless' snout on my shoulder shook me from my thoughts and I opened my eyes, looking sideways at the large black dragon. He purred curiously. He always knew when to snap me out of it. He always knew when my imagination was digging itself a nice deep grave. I sighed, patting his nose lightly.

"Sorry, buddy. I'm just so caught up in how much I just… love my life. Yep." I shrugged sarcastically and Toothless pushed his snout against my face again, earning a laugh out of me. I looked back out onto the water, still and uninterrupted aside from the light wash of waved on the rock cliffs. The closest flat land wasn't for miles but I could see her off in the clouds where a light fog had rolled in. Above me though, the sky was blue and I was thankful. It was a nice day to do absolutely nothing.

"I don't think I've ever seen it so quiet on Berk." I said, looking sideways at my dragon. He did not register I had even spoke. His eyes had gone narrow, squinting out into the water, black ears twitched around in each direction to hear the silence.

"Toothless?" I mumbled. It wasn't like him to ignore me. Even if he didn't understand every word I said, it was not like him to ignore me. That was everyone else's job. I knew that face. Something was wrong. "Toothless, what is it?"

He roared angrily, teeth sheathing back into his head as he let out a pulse of blue and purple flames, firing at a tower of rocks nearby. The tower exploded into dust and debris and a voice I did not recognize nor understand cried out gruffly from another formation to our right.

It was then that the arrows started to fall.

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**OH NO! HICCUP IS UNDER ATTACK! but... in the middle of the ocean? Who are these people?**

**Next chapter is written but I am going to wait just a little bit to hear what you all have to say! Hopefully you liked the intro! More coming soon!**

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	2. One Devastating Click

**HEY! Welcome back everybody! And if you just started reading then glad your motivated to read chapter 2 as well! =D This is where it picks up a little bit. I always hated writing filler chapters so this story should get pretty exciting pretty quickly. **

**Please read, review, and most of all- ENJOY!**

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It was not the first time I had been fired upon, but all the other times, I had known what I was getting into. This was supposed to be just another ride just me and my pal. Today, I was not in a war. I did not have my helmet or even my hunting knife with me. It was just me.

Toothless roared in rage next to me, head tilting back and eyes like slits as he fired another burst of flames at another pedestal of stone. It exploded in tons of rock and grit, a body falling from where it had been perched in the shadows of the rock to land lifelessly in the tide.

I hadn't even seen anyone hiding there. I didn't see anyone! But the arrows struck the land around me from all directions and my heart began to pound in my ears. This was not Alvin the Terrible. This was not any foe I had ever faced before. No tribe I knew used such stealth as this. What this was… this was impossible.

An arrow struck near my foot. It was sign enough I needed to move, shaken out of my curiosity and terror by a threat to my own life. I climbed to my feet only to tumble to the ground. My prosthetic! I had taken it off when we had landed! I pulled myself along the ground, scrambling with my good leg to where I had set the little piece of me, tugging on straps and buckles to try and get it secure. A shadow had fallen above me and I realized with a swell of gratitude that Toothless was shielding me from the array of arrows. Even so, my nerves were taking control and my fingers were clumsy on the belt buckles of my extended limb. Sweat dripping on my brow, I didn't have time for adjusting. With more or less my prosthetic attached, I hopped onto my dragon and pressed down into his back.

"Come on, Toothless! We gotta go!"

I squinted hard. I could see now what I had not before. Climbing each stone cliff that jutted from the waves were dozens of lean men, covered in camouflage and dust to cloak themselves from view. They scaled the walls with agility I couldn't even grasp, each managing to perch themselves into crooks and crannies where they could turn and aim their bows my way. They were like ants, climbing with speed of one who had been born to scale. Although their aim was rather poor, the athleticism took the air out of my chest, squeezed my heart until I was suffocating with fear. This was what I was up against. But as well as they could climb, they would not be able to fly.

"Up Toothless! We gotta get out of their range!" I yelled, tilting my leg to open his tail flap. An arrow hummed past my face, catching my cheek sharply. I hissed in pain, feeling warm blood drip down to my jawline from the shallow cut. My pain was all the motivation he needed to fly faster, wings pumping as we rose higher and higher into the clouds until the arrows could no longer touch us. "Good job, boy! Come on, Toothless!"

A smile hit my face as I realized we were escaping unscathed. We were going to get away! I tilted my leg again, aiming to fly back towards Berk where I knew help would be. We would be safe. Out here in the ocean we were vulnerable. Who knew what else these strangers had up their sleeves? I had no idea. All I knew was I wanted to get as far away from there as possible.

My heart dropped into my stomach as I jerked my leg and I heard a devastating click. It was barely a sound at all, but I knew what it was nearly immediately. I looked down at my leg where it was supposed to be clicked into the stirrup to see the buckles flapping loosely around my leg. I had not secured it on correctly. The prosthetic lay clipped uselessly into the stirrup but my kneecap was free, clutching onto Toothless' side hopelessly.

"No." I whispered, eyes wide as Toothless roared, flapping without heed. We began to fall back towards the water and the stone towers of our assailants. "NO!" I screamed. "Come on, Toothless! Come on!" I knew it was hopeless though. I had learned time and time again we could not fly without the tail flap no matter how much I wished it were different. And while my foot was technically still attached to his stirrup, there was no manipulation of movement without my leg connected to the prosthetic. All he could do was slow our fall, reaching out claws to grasp at the land of a cliff side next to us to stop us from tumbling into the water. Around us, the sounds of the men shouting back and forth in a language I did not understand, or words I did not grasp, were closer than ever. We were surrounded three dozen to one. Whoever had sent these people were not messing around. They wanted something. In the black pit deep in my gut- I think I knew what it was.

Toothless spread his wings upwards, shielding me best he could, claws scratching at the cliff to try and hoist us back up to land. It was useless, an arrow pierced his right shoulder blade and I shouted with his roar, anger and horror in my eyes at how helpless I really was without him. I was flung from his back when a rope fell from the men above, looping around the reptile's horns and jerking his head backwards. Toothless lost his grip on the stone tower, hurtling us both down into the ocean with a mighty roar.

The silence of the water was nearly calming, cold blue water surrounding me and cutting off the rest of the world. The arrows continued to fall, but the water slowed them enough and the tiny spears glided softly in the vast blue. Blue. Everything was so blue. The sting of salt in my eyes was nothing at all. For the first time since we had fallen from the sky I was at peace. A part of me wanted to hold onto that moment, to float in the depths of the water forever. However, the burning in my lungs stated otherwise and I realized I had not taken a breath before we had hit the water. My arms began to struggle scooping hand fulls of the ocean behind me in an effort to close the distance between me and the sky.

I had never been a strong swimmer. I was alright, but I was small and the entire ocean was just a little bit larger than I was. The fact that I was missing a leg did not help my case in any way and my other leg paddled harder to try and make up for what I lacked, a heavy fur boot dragging me back downward with every inch I pried up. The surface just would not come. It stayed far out of my grasp. No longer was the water blue but black. No longer was there silence but a ringing dull in my ears. My head was light, bubble or precious air escaping between my lips to float up to where I could not reach.

_I am going to die._

It was my last thought before the large, black body of Toothless swept under me, lifting me above the surface on his back. The waves took us the moment we broke the surface, smashing us against a rock face with the force of an entire mountain. The tide pulled us back and shook us again, crushing my body between the two ton dragon and the sharp coral and rock. Maybe I should have let myself drown. My spine cracked against the stone cliff and I gasped in a mouthful of water, pain escalating with each breath.

The third wave that crunched my body against the mountain was not as bad.

I barely felt a thing...

Another rope fell and wound around Toothless' leg. Men on the mountains securing him to the stone plinths. He fought as best he could but his body was weak from the attack and the moan that grew deeply in the dragon's throat was heartbreaking.

I wasn't conscious enough to register that the pinkness of the water came from the gash in my side. The copper in my mouth the taste of my own blood. Even when a second rope fell from above, looping around my chest and neck, I could do nothing but hang limply. I held onto Toothless' saddle but the leather was slippery and my grip was so weak. The strap slid free from my grasp and my body was tugged from the water, blood and salt dripping off of me in rivulets to rain on the ocean below my feet. It was there my best friend was struggling with consciousness himself, tiny arrows like needles in his scaly sides. I was being taken away from him. We were being pulled apart and there was nothing I could do.

"Toothless." I whispered. I was tossed non too gently onto a wooden deck, the world swimming in and out of view with every slow beat of my heart. Above me a stained, filthy mass raised, catching the wind to take the men off to wherever they called home.

Taking me with them.

My body shuddered, shadows standing over me and the heel of a foot tilting my face to the side. Words were spoken, words I did not understand and I tried my best to make my body move. There was only the dull throb in my ears though, only a numbness in each and every limb that told me there was nothing left to fight.

The shadow over me grew closer and the fowl stench of filth filled my nostrils, a blurry yellow grin barring in my face.

"Tooth…less…" I whispered again, teetering on the wall between semi consciousness and oblivion. The figure gave no pity to the fear in my trembling voice. It took no guilt in my pain. A bare foot pressed hard into my throat, cutting off all my air at once. My chest heaved once, twice, and then there was no air left to breath. I was glad my father was not there to see the dots of tears slide from my eyes just before my world went black and I was carried into sweet nothingness.

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**=( OH NO! Poor Hiccup! What is little Hiccup gonna do without Toothless? And what could Toothless possibly do in the middle of the ocean without HICCUP?! Tune in next time!**

**Once again, Chapter 3 is already written. ^^ Just waiting for the go ahead from some viewers! What you liked, what you didn't like, what you didn't care for! It's all good reviews to me!**

**Might even post the next chapter later today so if I do- SEE Y'ALL SOON!**


	3. Might as Well Have Clipped His Wings

**I didn't particularly enjoy this chapter but we need to start this journey somewhere! I wanted to thank you all who have left reviews! Especially Final Syai! Shout out to you for the awesome review! it's hearing from you guys that keeps me posting faster! Here is the next chapter just like I said! Next one coming soon!**

_**Read, Review, ENJOY!**_

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The rage of the water was an enemy Toothless knew all too well. It had taken only one instance trapped in the depths of the sea to teach the dragon to fear its kind. The ocean. Where there was no air to breath. No hope to fight. Nothing but cold, wet darkness. He had been trapped there only once before and it had almost cost the little master his life. Trapped once before and that would be enough for a lifetime.

But his poor little master was helpless. His wound left him incapable of staying afloat on his own and too see him struggle sent Toothless into a fury of fear himself, knowing just what it was like not to be able to breath.

But right then, he was not under the water. His head was raised above it, tied to the rocky cliff side and into the open air while the tide washed his tail back and forth against the rocks. He was above the terror of the ocean, yet he could not breathe. Not a breath could escape him and he purred brokenly. This feeling was not drowning. This feeling was what he had felt hearing his master scream from the cove, being unable to climb out to help. This feeling was what he had felt when he had watched the little one knocked from his saddle to fall to his death the night he had been damaged. The feeling he had when he paced outside of the home that night while the large chief took the little one's leg. This feeling. This feeling.

Panic…

Toothless' heart began to shudder when he realized just how long he had been unconscious. No longer was the ship in his vision. The boat that his little one had been swept onto was long since gone and the dragon began to struggle, black body raging against the mountainside. It took no time to break free of the ropes that secured his body down. They flopped uselessly in the water, waving like little tails.

Had only he been stronger when the strangers had come forth…

Had only he fought harder in the waves when he had first been crushed to the mountain side….

None of that mattered now. He fell into the water, pumping his tail and wings to leave the dangers of the rock cliffs behind him. Perhaps if he was fast enough he could catch up to the little one, but in what direction had they traveled? There was no smell. Only a blank canvass of dark water carrying on for miles in each direction. He fired a shot of flames desperately into the sky, roaring in anguish at his loss. Where did you go when you didn't know where you needed to be?

The ocean spread in all directions- all directions but one at least. To the west was the town. The other little ones would be there. The other two legged beings would take him to the little master. They would put him on their boats and take him there.

Putting his head into the waves, Toothless propelled himself towards land, wishing the very human feeling of panic would leave his heart. He would never fly again as it was. And without the little master, he never wanted to. A pained roar left his throat and he swam harder, trying to keep his large body afloat. At this rate it would take forever to reach the ground. By then- would it be too late for the humans to find the little one's scent as well?

There was no sense of time anymore. All Toothless knew was that the sun was going down and he still had not reached land. Each arrow in his side was another pin and needle, reminders of the dangers that the little one was up against. And the dangers that the little one was up against _alone _for that matter. He was so small. So fragile.

Toothless waved his tail, feeling the emptiness where his tail flap fluttered uselessly with the waves. What made him any different than the little one? It seemed right then that he was just as fragile. The sea was no place for a Night Fury. But the sky was the very last place anyone would find him without his little one. It had taken one night to take the freedom out of flying for the little black dragon. It seemed to have taken an eternity to get him back into the air by the side of the human. It seemed to be a continuing cycle. One day. It had taken one day and he was grounded once more.

Taking the little one from him had not clipped his wings; but without the little one, it might as well have.

"Is that Toothless?"

"Who?"

"Stoic's boy? His dragon. It must be. He's the only Night Fury around here."

Toothless had not even noticed the fishing boat rowing next to him. He was still far from shore and the exhaustion made his mind weary. He was conscious enough to see the dragon shaped bow and his muscles relaxed. It was from Berk. It was help. A moan escaped him and he pumped his wings, clinging to the boat with his front claws and hoisting himself onto the deck with the help of the Vikings, nearly overturning the whole ship in the process. It rolled back and forth in the water, calming finally from its battle with balance.

"What's the matter with him?" One of the men asked. In Toothless' eyes, they all looked the same. Large, round, hairy- it was a wonder his little master had come from the same blood. Toothless was gracious for it. His back would surely break carrying someone so large.

"He's hurt. Look." Another gruff voice answered. Toothless did not understand their words, but a hand brushed one of the arrows protruding from his back and he gave a roar, shooting a burst of fire into the open sea in surprise. "Wait…"

Toothless looked back at the man, watching his eyes go wide with realization. "Wait." The man grabbed Toothless' face gently, tilting his head towards him. "Where is Hiccup?"

Toothless purred sadly deep in his throat. They were the only words that he had understood. And they were the only he wished he could answer himself.

Sailing to Berk was nerve wracking. At least when he had been swimming, Toothless had been distracted. Now his mind was moving a million miles away and they could only move as fast as the boat carried them. He groaned and purred in heartbreak. He could not get his final moments of consciousness from his memory. The water taking him and the little one back and forth against the rock walls, the scent of blood filling his nostrils. But it was not his blood. It was the little one. It tainted the water pink. It pooled around them in a cloud of crimson. And those two eyes only stared at him when he was lifted up onto the deck of a strange boat. Washed far away without a move to fight back.

Toothless covered his face with his tail. He was weak.

The little one's voice was clear in his head. Whispering his name in desperation. It would be the last time the little one needed to fear. Toothless was going to get him back if it was the last thing he did. No more sitting and letting the waves use him like a rag doll. No more sitting and watching as his second half disappeared over the horizon. The little one was coming home safe.

The little one's father, the large one, was the first person to greet them when the boat was docked. The look on his face was enough. He was aware of the little one's disappearance. The sky had gone from orange to black in the last stretch to land and night was closing in from every direction. Toothless lay near invisible on the deck, black scales against a black night, but the large one found him nonetheless, kneeling at his side.

His eyes locked on the left stirrup and he reached pudgy hands forwards, unfastening the metal prosthetic still attached there in the foothold. There was apparent panic in his eyes. It was one of the emotions Toothless could relate with and his heart took pity on the chief.

"Toothless, where is he? Where is my son?"

Toothless purred. He did not understand. He could not communicate and it killed him. Every second that passed was a second his little one gained distance from them. Farther and farther he was sailing and they had not even begun to pursue.

"What could have happened?"

"These arrows." The large one shook his head. "This is not Alvin's doing."

Toothless felt a tug by his leg and looked to see the large chief unfasten a rope, the same one the assailants had used to tie him to the mountainside. He ran it through his hands, eyebrows knitting together.

"Find something, Stoic?"

The large one mumbled something to himself before shaking his head. "Have you ever seen a rope as this? I've never seen the material before in all my life." He passed it to the next Viking who passed it to the next, each face one of hopelessness and futility. Each hand it passed to more broken than the one before until one face brightened, grabbing the rope from the large one's hands and rubbing it in his grubby fingers.

"Wait! I know of this! The twining! It is of the Gragona trees!"

"Gragona trees? What is this you're babbling about? Those haven't grown on the island in hundreds of years."

"No." The man shook his head, still beaming. "I know of only one place that they still exist."

The large one breathed, eyes serious. " It may not be much but it's something. Someone spread the word. Get yourselves prepared, men. We are going after my son."

He turned to Toothless and the dragon moaned where he lay on the deck, eyes soft and apprehensive to match the human. The dragon had no idea what they were speaking of, but the sudden rustle of movement, the pounding of boots on the wooden deck where they had scattered was enough to let the Night Fury know there was a plan. The large one patted the dragon's head softly, concern drowning out anything else that might have existed there on his face.

"Don't worry, dragon. We are going to find him."

Toothless moaned helplessly. They would find him- if it wasn't too late already.

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**Toothless, the little heartbroken dragon. =( Kills me! But I hope it will get better! They at least know where to find Hiccup? maaaaaybe. =) Stay tuned. the next chapters is one of my all time faves and involves a ton ton of Hiccup abuse. Like he hasn't had enough already... XP **

**Posting soon! Review and tell me what you think. =)**


	4. Scrathcrit

**FINALLY! I thoroughly enjoy this chapter and I hope you all do to! I just finished editing it up this morning! Good thing too. The longer I wait to write it out, the longer Hiccup has to wait to be rescued! Haha**

**Another shout out to Ani and Final Syai for the reviews. =) Readers like you keep the stories flowing!**

**Without further adieu-Read, Review, Enjoy!**

I did not want to wake up. This place, whatever it was, was hell. My body ached all over and each breath sent tremors through my ribcage. It was a wonder I could breathe at all, a wonder that I could pry open my eyes against the stinging of dirt caked in the corners of them. I wanted to close them immediately. There was a stench around me that made me want to vomit, the stench of death. It made me choke and sputter, waves of pain spreading from my chest to every inch of my existence, to every fingertip and toe. I groaned to myself, trying to will my tears back into my eyes and will my body to pry itself up from the ground.

With a look down at my feet, I realized that was a very unreal expectation. My prosthetic was missing. I squeezed my eyes shut. Where had it gone? I couldn't even remember. I recalled flying with Toothless. It was a beautiful day, and suddenly I was here? Where was here anyways and what had happened to all the in between?

I pushed my leg into the sand and stone under me, trying to get the feeling back into it as best I could. It didn't matter if I had a leg or not, the cage bars around me looked sturdy and unfaltering. I would not be going anywhere. The bars were simple, made from what looked like animal bone and bound together with thick cords of rope and twine. The rest of the room was rough, as if someone had chiseled a hollow in a rock face by hand. It didn't matter how primitive it was. The cold hard truth was as simple as it felt, it was enough to keep me contained. It had a job and basic as it was- it was succeeding.

I felt a rush of panic hit me the more aware I became of the situation. I was caged. I was handicapped. I was… quite frankly… _Toothless._ My dragon. He was gone. I was alone. I pressed the back of my hands against my eyes, trying to rub the dirt from them to stop the sting. All I accomplished was rubbing more sand into them and they watered hopelessly while my breath began to get more labored.

I was alone.

I was alone.

I was alone…

In a sudden burst of desperation, I tried to scramble towards the cage bars. I needed to get out. I needed to get free. It was all I could think of. Every other thought was gone. I just wanted to get out. So what if I couldn't walk? I was creative. I would find a way to survive. I was the most innovative and resourceful Viking in Berk. If anyone could escape a simple handmade prison- it was me. I could do it! I couldn't stay there and wait around for… for _whoever_ wanted me so badly!

I began to pant for breath, dread ripping through me now. What if they came for m, whoever had done this to me, what if they came before I escaped? What would they do to me if they came _while_ I attempted to escape? I did not want to find out, scrambling hard with my good leg and the stump of my bad one just before a searing line of fire stabbed me in the back.

I gasped inward sharply, falling back onto my face with a hand reaching around my side, grasping at the origin of the torment. There was nothing there. My shirt was in tatters and was damp to the touch. I pulled away my hand, looking at the stain of red on my palm. Blood? It was blood.

"Oh spectacular." I mumbled to myself, regretting the sound of my own voice when it trembled uncontrollably, willing myself to be braver despite the ever growing pit in my gut. I lifted up my shirt carefully, grunting when the cloth stuck to the patch of half dried blood. I wished I hadn't looked. The wound was angry, a deep mess of gashes and bruises stretching from my rib cage, across my side to end behind me just to the left of my spine. I could not see over my shoulder to examine the whole mess I had made of myself but I could feel it now like fire, suddenly aware of the movements my body made and the directions they pulled the lacerations.

I took a deep breath and held it, trying to pull myself along the stone and sand floor once more. The stars in my eyes danced, pain bursting through my body until the sides of my vision grew dark and I lay still once more. With the shot of pain came the memories. The way the waves had thrown me and Toothless against the stone pillars in the ocean. The feeling of sharp coral slicing into my skin and between the bones of my ribs. I remembered it all. I remembered being pulled away from Toothless.

Toothless. My best friend. My heart suddenly ached, remembering the sad sight of him. His skin punctured with arrows that had been aimed at me. Guilt began to rise in my throat and I groaned out loud, to try and give it a way to escape. I remembered rising over his head, hoisted by the ropes of my captors, leaving him weak and tied to the rocky cliff. Was he alright? Was he even alive? I swallowed hard. There was nothing I needed more than to rush back to him. He needed me and what was I doing? I was laying on my face in a prison feeling sorry for myself.

_Hiccup, you're selfish. You gotta snap out of it! Think!_

I shook my head. But they had not taken Toothless. They had only taken me. What did these people want? I was nothing without my dragon. It didn't make sense to me.

"Dos crebb reginroth."

I looked up, hearing the rough voice over me. Through the bars of the cage, in the darkness of a natural canopy of branches and vines were two men. Their bodied were thin, skinnier than even I was. Each bone was outlined as if someone had fed their bodies lemons that had puckered the skin tightly against their skeletons. Dark red and purple paint streaked down their bodies, outlining shapes I did not understand. Both of them looked so frail though. There was a deep darkness in their eyes, bags of black under each as if they had never known a day of sleep in their lives. Yet despite the frailness, the look of age as portrayed by long grey, braided beards, I could see muscles rippling here and there on their bodies with each movement.

I blinked up at them from where I lay in the sand, trying to muster up my courage once more. "Ah… I don't think I quite caught that. Too much sand in my ears. One more time?"

The men exchanged glances, not registering I had even spoke. Maybe I hadn't left Berk after all. It seemed everyone ignored me just the same. "Wow. You guys are really making me feel right at home."

They undid a latch and the cage bars fell. Had I had both legs I could have run. As it was, I lay there like a lump while they waited over me. Eyeing me like a piece of meat. I swallowed hard. If they wanted meat they could have kidnapped a fuller Viking than me. They were not getting their labors worth as bony as I was.

"Freth grun-du." One of them said simply, teeth yellow and crooked. At least he had teeth. The other seemed to have gums only aside from a single little peg sticking from his lower gum. He tapped at it with his tongue while he watched me.

I decided they were not going to eat me. They didn't have the right tools for chewing anyways. I shook my head as they motioned their heads upwards, jerking their arms in the direction of the entrance to the canopy of branches and trees. They wanted me to follow. Did they not understand I couldn't walk? "You… want me to follow? I… I can't."

They only blinked at me.

"Right. No English." I raised my arms, pointing dramatically at their legs and then at my one. "I. No. Walk." I said, swallowing the lump in my throat when they crowded into the cage and grabbed tightly to my arms.

Their fingernails were yellow and rough on my skin, pinching into the soft flesh of my forearms when they dragged me to my feet, or to my foot, with strength unreal for their body sizes. I hissed in pain at being moved so suddenly, my wound protesting and I struggled against them for a moment, silenced when a bony, calloused hand slapped my across my cheek. I bit my lip, eyes screwed shut as they dragged me out of the prison and from the canopy of trees.

My vision was swimming with agony but I managed to focus enough on my surroundings, trying to remember everything I could. If I did manage to escape, I needed to know a way out. I couldn't run around blindly.

There wasn't much room for escape. We were a hundred feet in the air, perched on bridges and walkways woven in the tops of thick trees. I had never seen trees so large. I had never been so high without the wings of a dragon under me. My breath hitched, watching over the edge of an unstable wooden and rope bridge as the men dragged me across without heed. It could have broken at any moment and taken all three of us to a crushing death to the forest floor below, but they had no mind for that even when the wood under us creaked unstably and rocked to and fro, the movements of a ship caught in a storm. Perhaps they had evolved to be so thin. These bridges would never hold a real full grown Viking. It was a good thing they had not kidnapped Stoic or Gobber.

Behind us came the sound of little feet and I managed to lift my head enough to look over my shoulder where smaller boys and girls stood on a platform of branches, watching me with the same careless, black eyes.

A little girl pointed to me, her teeth brown and sharp like a monster, hair scraggly and long in her eyes.

"Scrathcrit." She hissed, pointing a thin, filthy finger at me. The other children giggled, evil grins stretching on their faces.

I considered myself lucky I did not understand them. I didn't think I wanted to know what they were saying.

The bridge ended on the ledge of a cliff and I was gracious for real, solid ground. I was dragged agonizingly down a stone hallway, rough and carved just as my prison was only large as the Great Hall with paintings all along the walls, lines of fire on either side of us. We reached a large stone table and I was tossed to the floor, catching myself on my palms where sharp stone cut deep. I blinked hard, trying to keep the spots out of my vision long enough to raise my head and peek through my bangs, strands of hair falling into my eyes.

We had not come to the end of the cave. There was a stone alter surrounded by fire and purple smears of paint. Behind it was another tunnel cutting to the left and then a fork that led to the right. Both led to darkness I never wanted to witness first hand. As it was, I barely wanted to witness the light of the cave, much less the shadows.

A man stood up from a stone chair behind the alter and I swallowed. He was tall and broad as a door although his bones were just as protruding as the others. His chest was painted red, face a deep shade of maroon where the figure of a hand print was painted over his eyes and nose. Next to him was a smaller man, a thorn strand of rope hung at his side, the other side was home to a long white bone sharpened at the tip to a devastating blade. In his hand he clutched a wooden staff I knew was not meant for walking.

I did not need to be told. This was their chief. Their chief and what looked to me like a body guard or maybe an adviser. I straightened as best I could where I knelt, trying to find the air in my lungs to breathe again.

"Dos grun fathra dos yong."

I shook my head. "I'm really sorry. But I don't think you quite understand. How can I explain this in a way you can relate to? I'm not really from here in case you didn't notice." The chief turned to the smaller man and whispered something to him in a quiet voice. Even if I could have heard it would not make a difference with all I understood of their language. "This must be a misunderstanding. I don't understand you. Surely this is all a mix up. Maybe you should just return me to my island and we'll both be on our ways? Call it a day maybe?" The man with the thorn belt came around the alter, eyes never leaving me. I swallowed hard, straightening where I knelt. "What am I saying. You're not hearing a word I'm saying, are you? This. Is. A. Mistake. Let. Me-"

The man had reached me now, cutting me off by jabbing the end of his staff into my gut. I gasped, tears prickling my eyes as I reeled over myself, the breath completely knocked out of me in a whoosh of air. The man reached then and grabbed my face in one of his yellow finger-nailed hands, squeezing my cheeks hard on his hand and jerking my head to the side to look him in the eyes.

"Okay. No talking. Got it." I panted, eyes squinted in torment. The warm stench of his breath was suffocating. "I don't know what you want from me." Then more desperate as fear clutched my insides. "What do you want from me?"

If they didn't understand my language, they understood the crack of fear in my voice and they both grinned. The man with the staff dragged me to my feet again and pulled me towards the tunnel that careened to the left. He handed me a branch that was leaned conveniently against the wall. It had been prepared for me- I knew. It was a crutch, my size, my height. It was primitive and crooked but he put it in my hands, giving me no chance to fight. I propped it under my arm, hobbling down the tunnel until he stopped following me and I turned to look up at him.

"You. Go." The man with the staff hissed. Behind him the chief was scowling darkly at me and I blinked to focus my thoughts. So he knew English. It was forced and rough but he knew. Just how much- I couldn't be sure.

The next word he spoke I understood. A frown hit my face when he shoved me deeper into the tunnel where I could hear a deep rumble. He wanted me to go on alone from here.

"Survive." He hissed.

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**This was originally going to be one MASSIVE chapter when I first wrote it out. But the more I wrote the longer and longer it grew until I had to clip it into two. So chapter 5 is on it's way and also be in Hiccup's point of view. Coming soon! **

**Stay Tuned!**


	5. Echo My Cries

**Time for things to speed up! We've reached the breaking point!... almost. hahah It's a good thing I'm on vacation until February! I've had so much time to write it's impossible! It's too bad in a month I have to get back to doing real work. But at the rate we're moving I'm certain at least this story will be finished by then so it won't drop off a cliff like some stories out there do. =) I'm THRILLED TO BE WRITING IT!**

**Alright now! Where were we? Something about Hiccup hobbling off to his doom? Sounds about right. **

**READ, REVIEW, ENJOY!**

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The rumbling coming from the end of the tunnel made the hairs on my arms stand on end. The back of my neck prickled as I hobbled hopelessly through the dark. Slowly, my eyes were beginning to adjust to the shadows engulfing me, but my breath had not yet adjusted to the fear and I panted on my lonesome.

The sound of my heart was loud and I tried to quiet it, slowing my breathing and wheezing as best I could despite my fear.

_You're fine. You're gonna be okay. _

I shook my head. Even in my thoughts I sounded weak. But the sounds of my breathing echoed back at me from all the walls of the tunnel and I wished for a moment my thoughts would speak louder and drown it out.

But louder than my breath and louder than my thoughts was the rumble. With each shaky step I took it was one shaky step closer until I could feel an unnatural warmth spreading in the tunnel. My eyebrows knitted together and I hesitated a moment, feeling a gush of hot wind blow my hair back from my sweaty brow. "Wait a second…" I whispered carefully, eyes squinting in curiosity. I knew that rumble now. Now that it no longer was just a distant echo but a close grumbling in a chamber not far ahead of me. I knew that feeling of hot wind. This was not something new. This was not something to fear.

This was…

I stepped out of the end of my tunnel, looking up into a high vaulted ceiling that stretched so far I could barely see where it ended. The chamber was circled with weapons, handcrafted of wood and bones, not the metal that my people used. And on the floor, resting in the middle of the stone room was a dragon.

I had never seen anything like it. The skin was a deep gray, the color of the stone and sand it was resting on and the head was massive, teeth as long as my body lined its lower law, jutting crookedly towards the sky while smaller spikes stuck forwards like javelins. When I entered the chamber, the head lifted from the earth and orange eyes opened to look at me. Orange orbs as large as my head and with no pupil to speak of. I wondered to myself if it could see me or if it were blind. It was hard to say even as clearly as the white scars were that slashed across each eye. They were not the only scars on its body. In fact, had it not been for the already grey skin to mask many of the ragged lines mutilating the dragon's skin I knew it might have even looked striped.

Years of wear and tear made a timeline on his skin, old and new marks alike, patches of dried and wet blood where attacks and tortures had been inflicted right in the prison he resided in. Right in the room I stood in right then.

"Woah…" I couldn't help the gasp that escaped me. I had seen plenty of dragons in my short lifetime, but never had I seen this. Not in the book, not in myths. Whatever this was, it was nothing I had ever experienced. Nothing I had ever experienced, and it was angry.

It lifted its head, tilting it far back, revealing a thin neck. I could see straight through the clear skin of its underbelly, staring into a heart that beat as large as a full size boulder. I could see the purple veins, the lungs expanding and shrinking with each intake of air.

It opened jaws large enough to swallow me whole and roared. It was terrible and I grunted, covering my ears with both hands and flinching away. It was high pitched and repeating as if it was not only one voice but many. It hit the chamber walls, vibrating the floor and rushing back to meet me again and again until I wanted to run the other way. But it was not a roar of anger. It was fear. It was torment and anguish. A roar of years of torture and betrayal. Years of starvation.

I ground my teeth hard as it locked its eyes on me, taking a heavy step my way as a tail split into two pieces dragged along the floor, a spike lined tip to each end flicking the walls of the chamber with each swing. And suddenly I was not afraid.

I was heartbroken.

This dragon could have been anyone's dragon. It could have been Toothless or Stormfly. It could have been Meatlug. It could have been somebody's friend. Instead, it was a prisoner, locked away from the world in a stone room deep in the dungeons of this terrible civilization. It was a prisoner- just like me.

I swallowed hard and stared up at him. He tried to spread his wings, wings as clear as his underbelly and as wide as the sky, but the chamber was not large enough and the flaps hung limp in their mid-stretch.

Behind me I heard the pitter patter of feet and turned hard, eyes wide as two other men joined me in the chamber. One was the adviser, unwrapping his thorn whip from his side as he eyed the dragon. The second was one of the men who had taken me from my cage in the first place. Both ignored me at first, stepping around the sad dragon thoughtfully before turning to me, watching as if they expected me to do something. Anything at all.

But I had nothing for them. What did they want of me? I didn't understand.

The man who had taken me from the cage was growing impatient. He turned sharply to me, raising a fist to strike me. I cringed away, readying myself for the blow. It never came. The adviser was by him in a moment, grabbing his arm and throwing him back away from me. He turned to me, yellow teeth barred in my face.

"Fix it." He hissed at me, pointing to the dragon.

I swallowed. Fix it? Like heal it? What did that mean? I shook my head. It was beginning to throb and I just couldn't figure it out. With each passing moment they were getting more and more restless, less and less patient with my hesitation. "I… I don't know what you want me to fix. I don't-"

The adviser snapped his whip, cracking the air only inches from my face and I stumbled back on my crutch, terrified. He gestured again at the dragon.

"Fix."

I gulped, the lump in my throat growing now while I hobbled forwards and towards the dragon.

Fix it. They wanted me to fix it. Surely they didn't want it healed. The marks on its body were clearly dealt from the very weapons these men wielded. I could see the lines of puncture wounds, welts left from the dangerous whips they carried. The unclean slashes made from dull bones in place of blades. They did not want it healed and they did not want it killed. I knew because the dragon was weak already. He was weak and trapped. If they really did want him killed they could have done it themselves. They didn't need to go through all the trouble of kidnapping me if they had wanted-

The realization hit me like a hammer to the brain. "I must be so stupid." I shook my head. Why else would someone want me? What else was I really good for? Hadn't I spent so much time thinking the very same thing? Why would someone want me if not to take care of some dragon problem? I was not wanted or needed. I was nobody. But the fact that I could handle dragons made me somebody and it made me somebody worth kidnapping.

They wanted me to train it. Simple as that. What they didn't understand was that I didn't know a thing about this dragon. I didn't know the type. I didn't know what it liked or didn't like. I had never even heard a myth about it to give me a hint. It was completely foreign to me. Not only that but I was on a crutch. I wouldn't even train a dragon I _did _know about without full use of my legs.

"I can't. I don't know what he is." I turned back to the men, desperation in my glazed eyes. My body hurt, my head throbbed, and they wanted me to train a dragon I knew nothing about. The situation was excruciating.

The sting of a whip across my back was even worse. The thorns ripped my shirt, piercing shallow cuts in the soft skin of my spine. I hissed in pain, staggering away from the blow. It hurt. It hurt like nothing I had ever felt before and I couldn't help but stumble towards the dragon when a second snap landed at my feet, hitting up dust and sand inches from my body.

"Alright! Okay!" I said hopelessly, putting my hands up and approaching the dragon with an intake of breath. I didn't have a choice.

"Survive." The adviser hissed again, just as he had before.

My back ached dully where I had been whipped and I tried to shake the pain away. At this rate, I wasn't so sure I wanted to survive at all.

The dragon's body tensed as I approached, head lowering slightly to my level, nose sniffing the space between us. I swallowed hard. This close I could see what I had only guessed before. The dragon _was_ blind. This close, I could tell. He couldn't see a thing. But its other senses were trained. Its ears twitched to and fro, nostrils opening and closing to taste the air.

"It's alright, buddy." I whispered to him, hoping he would be the only being in this place that actually understood me. "It's alright. Easy now."

I reached forwards a hand as if I expected him to come to me. It was futile. He couldn't see me. He couldn't see the hand or the compassion and pity in my eyes. To him, I was just another body. I smelled of fresh blood and another world. My movements were those of careful fear. To him- was I any different than the other men that had approached him? The other men that had given him those scars?

"Please. It's going to be just fine. Easy buddy."

He did not move towards my hand but he did not move away. Carefully, I took a breath and reached towards him, fingers trembling now. Did he hear me? Did he know I was coming closer? The last thing I needed was to surprise him. A cautious and angry dragon was the very last thing you wanted to catch off guard.

My fingers had barely landed on the tip of his nose when he gave out a roar, jerking his head upwards towards the ceiling suddenly while an angry blue grew in its clear underbelly. Spreading just outside of his throat.

I cried out, knocked off my feet by his sudden movements, losing my crutch in the process while the dragon stomped his feet, claws just missing my thin chest in his rage. I scrambled away as best I could, out of danger of the crushing body. The tail swung around the length of the chamber, just missing me in the process. I felt the spikes brush my hair, slicing a lock right from my head. From the far corner of the room I heard a terrible scream and the man who had taken me from the cage was crushed to the wall, not as fortunate as I had been. His body crumpled against the stone floor in an awkward angle. I knew he would not get up and my fear escalated.

The adviser was shouting, grabbing the staff he held and pointing the end towards the raging dragon. I noticed what I had not before. It was not a staff at all but a spear, sharpened at one end to a terrifying point.

"No!" I screamed, reaching a hand out towards him. "Don't!"

He paid me no attention, jabbing the spear into the dragon's ribs. The dragon roared, jerking backwards as the blue that had grown in his belly exploded outwards, a line of it rising in his throat before letting a burst of lightning into the ceiling. The stone above burned and sizzled, cracking the rock. I realized it was not black with shadows as I had thought before. It was black with burns. This dragon had not fired at the ceiling only once before but countless times in an effort to fight back. The ceiling was broken and unstable, trembling as the shot of lightning blasted against the rock. Even so- it held strong and the dragon continued to roar and rage.

I grabbed my crutch from the sand, crawling to my feet as the man stabbed at the dragon a second time.

The dragon roared again, a terrible sound of pain and torture, backing into the far corner of the room where it moaned in anxiety. I grabbed tightly to the man's arm, pulling the staff away and throwing it to the ground. "Stop it! This isn't going to help anything!" I shouted.

The man threw me to the ground, tearing his whip out of his belt and snapping it down on me with as much force as a wild animal. I screamed, covering my head with my arms as each blow fell. Each stinging rip at my soft flesh until my body and brain had gone numb. Where was I? What was happening? Even the crack of the whip sounded so distant from my ears while the spots danced in my eyes. The corners of my vision going black. In my semi consciousness- the blows of the whip never stopped even when I lost myself completely to the pain.

I whimpered softly in the sand and far in the corner, the dragon echoed my cries.

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**GUESS WHAT EVERYBODY! I'm in a particularly good mood! 2 CHAPTERS POSTED TODAY! Next one coming in a couple of hours after this one has had a few views! **

**HAPPY WEDNESDAY EVERYONE!**


	6. Into the Dragon's Den

**Like I said! Second chapter is all cooked up and ready for you! I should let you know, the reason I posted this is because it is somewhat of an intro to the next chapter. I didn't want to spoil the mega chapter coming up next so I decided to cut off the intro and put it here to juice things up!**

**READ, REVIEW, and please... ENJOY!**

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I had never felt so weak in my life, but no matter how hard I tried, the tears kept on falling. I was on my side, the only bit of me that did not hurt to touch. My head pressed hard into the sand of my prison while my body screamed in agony. Every inch hurt. The lashes and welts along my chest and back bled softly into the tatters of my shirt, along my opposite side I ran my hand over the lacerations dealt to me by the ocean two days earlier. It was hot to the touch, reddened around the edges. If I did not get help soon- the infection would spread and there would be nothing anyone could do.

I coughed hard, sweat beading my brow as I tried to pull myself into a seated position. The cave was cold, but my skin was on fire and I trembled with unnatural chills. I needed to get free or I would lay there and die in the night. I would die and they would be down one dragon trainer. What then? I was the only chance they had at training dragons and they were leaving me in my prison to die of infection. It wasn't very good planning on their parts. But alas, whatever their will was, I was bound to it.

I swallowed, my throat dry from thirst. I didn't remember being dragged back to my prison. After the beating, everything had melted into one. If I had been conscious, I didn't know. But one moment I was laying in my own sweat on the stone floor and the next I was in my prison with my face in the sand. How many days had I been here? Only one? Two? I had no grasp of time anymore and I pinched the bridge of my nose. Surely someone would come to get me? Surely they were on their way? How long did it take to sail a ship from Berk? We had made it here in no time. But the Vikings had not yet arrived for me.

And I was so sure they would arrive.

_They probably have just barely noticed you have stopped showing up to Dragon Training. How many more days do you have left in you, Hiccup?_

None. I had no days left. I had no more will to wait to be saved. I was a Viking! Or at least, I lived on the same island as them. And as such, I was strong enough to free myself. It was what I told my head when my heart said to move. It was what I convinced myself of when I picked myself off the sandy floor.

I needed to get out. I couldn't lay there any longer. I dragged myself to my hands and knees, gasping for air when my body threatened to make me scream out. Salty tears dripped from my eyes and slid to the tip of my nose, sucking into the parched ground greedily. Fighting back the spots in my eyes, I tried my best to focus.

The cage was man made. It would be easy to escape. What I would do after- I had only a rough idea. But first things first, I needed to get out of the cage.

My hands found a rock buried in the sand, sharp to the touch against my bloody fingertips. It was all I needed. I was an animal trapped in a cage. I was a monster behind bars. But unlike an animal, I had thumbs. I had a mind and a will to fight. I had Toothless- the only motivation I needed to survive.

I held the rock tightly in my hand until it cut my palms, lifting it and bringing it down on the thick rope that held the bars of the cage together. Each bone was tied into place, secured with chords as thick as my wrists. I brought the stone down again on the rope, seeing the twining slowly begin to snap piece by piece.

My breathing was labored; sand stinging my wounds as I worked. Each hit became softer, each movement weaker until I was barely doing damage to the rope at all. Still, my body worked mindlessly. It would do anything to keep itself alive. It was a survival instinct I didn't even know I had.

"I'm coming for you, Toothless. Don't worry buddy." I breathed softly. I was surviving for two now. It wasn't just me anymore. If I didn't get free, Toothless wouldn't fly!

A frown hit my face.

I was wrong.

That wasn't true as much as I told myself it was so. If I didn't make it home, Toothless would fly. He would find another rider. He would find another me to take my place and put him in the sky. Just like that, it would be easy. He was a good dragon. He was strong, powerful, everything any rider could want. If I never came home, he would be just fine.

It was me who would not be fine. I would always need him. He could never be replaced in even the worst of dreams. He did not need me, but I certainly needed him.

I hadn't realized but I had stopped cutting at the ropes that held the cage together. My arm had gone limp as I stared sadly down at the stone in my hand. I was nobody without Toothless. I was nobody on my own.

I ground my teeth hard in my head. No. I had to get free. If I was nobody without Toothless than I would come back. I would make myself a somebody again even if I had to drag my own lifeless body from the prison. My hand pounded the rock against the ropes, gnawing and cutting them away until the first bar was free. It was all I needed. I was small enough to squeeze through, inching my body between the bones. My wounds protested as they dragged along the bars but I held in my cries, my lips moving in a silent scream until I had dragged myself out of the prison to lay limply on the ground. I was out. I was out and that was part one.

I dragged myself along the ground by my hands, grasping at the wood and vines lying in my path. The branches of the trees scraped along my sides. It was an agonizing journey, but soon I was free of the canopy of trees and crawling for the wooden bridge I had been hauled over before. My eyes peered through the wooden planks. Had I been this high earlier that day? Was the landing these people had built really in the treetops? I couldn't help but gasp. The shadows far below at the foot of the trees crawled with the eyes of hungry beasts. What they were- I hoped never to find out. What they wanted- I already knew. They wanted me. The little piece of half dead meat dangling on a thread far over their heads. What an easy meal if I fell. What an easy kill if I slipped. I shook my head, focusing on the dark before me instead of the darkness underneath.

"Not getting me tonight. I don't taste very good, anyways."

If my prison had been dark, the outside world was even worse. The trees cast terrible shadows and shapes in their wake, silence from the surrounding platforms and houses built in the shelter of the branch ceiling. And I crawled through the heart of it. I inched on the ground through the heart of monsters and beasts crouched in the shadows. I crawled away from my own shadows on the prison floor.

I willed myself not to look down even as I inched my way across the shaking wooden bridge, eyes wide as I prayed to the Gods no one would wake at the creak and cry of the ropes. It was so loud in the silence of night. Each movement as I dragged my limp body over the wooden planks, making the twin sounds of a dead body dragged along the ground. I could have been banging frying pans together for all the noise I felt I was making. Even so, I made it across and the world left me alone.

I swallowed, the sweat dripping from my brow into my eyes and my arms burning. I had made it over the bridge, already inching along the floor of the tunnel and past the alter of the king. No longer were the fires lit but the chamber was left in darkness, abandoned by the king and his adviser. I was thankful in that one moment. These people seemed certain I would not escape. There were no men on watch. No men guarding the landing. All I hoped for were that they were also heavy sleepers. The sounds of my breath bounced around the cave walls where I struggled for freedom.

I was nearly all the way down the final tunnel when I stopped, taking a breath and leaning my body up against the wall of the cave. What was I doing? I had tried earlier that day to reach the dragon. What made me think it would be any different this time? The dragon would surely still remain angry.

I pressed my hands into my eyes hard. _Hiccup, you are an idiot. What are you doing?_

My eyes traveled down the tunnel. I had adjusted to the dark enough to see the terrible streak of blood I had left in my wake. It was a trail that led right to my body, a line of a map to my location. And more than that- it was a sign. What would come of me turning around and going back? Absolutely nothing. Nothing but more blood and pain.

"I've come this far." I said out loud, assuring myself with a determined nod.

_What's the worst that could happen?_

The gravel stung the welts on my stomach but I sucked it up with an intake of breath.

_Aside from getting eaten..._

I dragged myself the last couple yards into the dragon's den.

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**YAYAYAYAYAY! Are y'all ready? Cuz the next chapter is seriously what you read this for. =] It's my personal favorite and is actually the chapter I wrote first! If that makes any sense at all... . haha Will post soon! REVIEW! have any good guesses what will happen? I don't think you know. ;D hahha Seriously STAY TUNED!**


	7. Slowly But Surely, I Lost It

**Alright everyone! This is my favorite chapter in the whole story by far. I actually wrote this chapter first when I was writing and came back to form the rest of the story around it. =] So I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I need to go to work today so I typed up two chapters last night to keep you occupied while I am gone. I will post this one and then there is a short mini chapter coming later until I can write out the next one! Anyways- I'm off to work. Hope you have a great afternoon! Hopefully see you late tonight to post the mini chapter!**

**READ, REVIEW, ENJOY!**

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It was amazing how little I feared the dragon when I was alone. The feelings in my gut were nothing like what I had felt that afternoon. Without the threat of the whips and beatings, it was just like another day at the Dragon Academy. I was just doing my job. I was just interacting with some friendly reptiles.

Even so- the dragon did not feel the same. As soon as I crawled into the room his eyes were open, head lifted up in suspicion.

"It's alright, boy." I said softly to let him know I was not trying to sneak up on him. My voice still shook with nerves. But I was not stunned into paralysis like I had felt under the eyes of my captors. I was alive. I was at work like I lived every day of my life. The idea that failure meant death or recapture was pushed deep into the back of my mind where it would stay. I didn't need thoughts like that bringing me down any farther than I already was.

I grasped onto a spear hanging on the wall, turning it point-side down and using it to hoist my body out of the dirt, standing awkwardly on my one shaking leg. I cleared my throat to emphasize my presence. This was the dragon's home. I was the intruder. All I needed was for him to accept me.

His orange, unseeing eyes shifted back and forth painfully. It was agonizing to watch such a creature searching. Unaware that the darkness had been caused by a twist of fate he could not control. I shook my head. It was terrible. For the first time since I had arrived, my pain was forgotten and my heart shattered for this dragon.

I leaned my back against the cave wall, watching the grey being with narrowed, dejected eyes. "You have no idea what's even happening, do you?" I spoke softly, clearing my throat when it cracked. The dragon rumbled, a growl in the back of his throat. He never let up his guard on me, teeth barred and ready for my move.

I made none, staying in my safe spot out of his reach. I pressed my filthy palms to the chamber wall, turning my eyes away from the sad sight of him. "How did you even get here? Of all the places you could have stumbled into and you fly here? How did that even happen? Why..."

I stared into those two wide orange eyes, mouth opening then closing when I couldn't find the right words. What did it matter? He was a giant reptile that had never even been exposed to my language. If he understood me enough to judge my words then I would eat my own boot.

"Ya know… I have a dragon of my own back home." I drawled on. I hadn't a clue why I did. But deep in those eyes, behind fangs as thick as my legs and scales as hard as stone I found the only ounce of myself left in this place. I was slowly being broken down and stripped away. How long until I had nothing left? How much longer until I was nothing of who I once was? I had no clue. But this dragon- he was all I had left in this place. He was a prisoner.

He was me.

"His name… is Toothless." I smiled. The name felt foreign on my lips. How long would it be until I would see him again? My heart swelled in my chest at the idea of being reunited with him. "He's… smaller than you are. A lot smaller. But… I'm not that big of a Viking anyways." I took a step closer to him and he growled, blue growing in his throat like I had seen earlier. I ignored it, stepping into his range and sitting down in the dirt at his feet. He continued to snarl angrily but I was not aware, silencing him with my own banter. "He's my best friend. And the sad truth is he doesn't even need me. Isn't that just perfect for me? Toothless, he's all I've got and I don't even have him." I swallowed. "But you… you don't have anyone. You're… alone." I bowed my head, the pain throbbing deep in my chest. "No one is coming for you. Just like… no one is coming for me." I felt hot tears fall onto my open palms, leaving streaks in the dirt and grime I had no will to wash away. Who cared how dirty I was, how terrible I felt. It would never be anything in the eyes of this beast. This dragon who had seemed to be born into the life of cruelty.

I never thought there would be a dragon that was not trainable. Because of these men- I feared I had been wrong.

"No. I'm being stupid. Someone is coming for me. But I'm beginning to think that they won't get here in time." I rubbed my chapped and split lips together, the feeling of sand on stone. "I'm just tired. I don't even know what day it is anymore and I'm just… you don't understand a word of this. I'm talking to a dragon. So I'm crazy too. Spectacular." I felt a laugh rising in my throat. I had no reason to feel joyful or amused, but the laugh grew none the less and I let it go. It filled the chamber, hitting me in the face with each echo against every wall. And I kept laughing until I realized it had turned to sobs, until my whole body trembled with fear and agony and tears streamed down my face. "I'm just so tired." I breathed through my sobs, head falling into my hands. "And I don't know how I'm going to come out of this. I'm… I'm not a Viking. I can't…"

I felt hot air in my face and my sobs slowed, managing to look up into the face of the dragon. He was close now, barely inches away. I could smell the rank of his breathe, feel his exhale on my skin. And I knew he could feel mine. I swallowed hard, trying to calm my tears enough to see straight. Even through the blur of my eyes, I knew what was happening. Very slowly, the dragon bowed his head, orange eyes closed now and his muscles calm. It was an invitation. It was trust.

My eyes went wide, glazed with the tears long since abandoned. For the first time since I had entered his den, he was seeing me. And I saw him.

I reached and ran a hand over the top of his head softly. His body tensed and then settled under my grip, bowing lower as I grasped onto his horns, using them to pull my body up over his neck to sit behind his large head. His skin was rough under me, the rage and bump of scars uneven against my legs. But the movement of his muscles was so familiar. It was just another dragon. He was just another friend.

"Are you ready to get out of here?" I whispered softly, body trembling now with anticipation. This was going to happen. I was going to rescue myself. No more sitting and waiting to die. No more self-pity. I was strong and I would prove I was my own person.

I could barely stand to be there another moment. The taste of open ocean air was so close I could feel it. The brush of cool wind on my face when we finally landed in the endless sky, headed for home where my friends would be waiting. It was all too true and my grip became firm on the dragon's horns. He knew what I wanted without being told and he roared, tilting his head upwards at the cracked and blackened ceiling.

"Now!" I shouted in determination, tugging on his horns. The blue in his throat expanded, firing forth into the ceiling and rumbling the whole cave. Nothing happened. There wasn't a single budge. I ground my teeth. "Again!" I called. He listened to my plea, firing again with more power than before. I watched with wide eyes and a small grin as a rock broke free to fall to the chamber floor below. It was working. The already damaged and ancient ceiling would crumble. The cave would fall for us!

From the tunnel I could hear shouting of men and the stampede of feet. They had heard the ruckus. They would try to stop us. But we wouldn't fail. We would be free!

"Again!" I ordered a third time. "Again! You can do it!"

The lightning fired and fired. How many bursts did this dragon have in him? I knew most dragons had a limit. When would this one reach his? In my head I counted softly. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight...

The sweat on my brow grew as I tugged his horns one last time. "Come on!" I screamed desperately, yelling as he fired into the cracks above us. The entire cave began to rumble, the crack spreading along the ceiling and walls like a disease, shattering everything it touched. The weapons below fell from their places on the walls. An earthquake shook us both where we were planted.

And the ceiling fell down.

Even as the rock and stone tumbled down towards us, I couldn't help but grin. I could see the sky through the cave wall. I could see the stars above and the gray clouds of night. Below us, the men entered the chamber, calling in desperation and fear. They grabbed weapons from the walls and floor where they had fallen, attacking for the dragon's legs but they were too slow. With a shake of clear wings, the dragon propelled itself against the roof, shattering what was left of it and sending us both up into the night.

I laughed loudly, the trees slowly moving under us. "Come on, buddy. Come on." I willed softly. But the dragon was weak. How many years had it been since he had flown? How long had it been since he had eaten or drank? He was weak, and each movement was slower than I had thought.

I swallowed, feeling the night air against my face. We needed to rise higher. We needed to move faster, but the dragon under me was giving it all he had and it just wasn't enough.

Below us, the men stood on their landings and bridges, aiming spears and bows in our direction. I pulled up on the dragon's horns in an attempt to steer him clear but he did not understand my motions, being the first time he had ever been ridden in his many years. Instead, he swooped down low to the trees and attempted to burst another shot of lighting at the men. A final shot for him to exact his revenge on his torturers. But there was nothing left in him. Only a small spark escaped his snout and now we were in the men's range.

I cried out as the men fired, spears piercing the dragon's flimsy wings and striking his underbelly. The dragon roared in agony, losing altitude with every weak pump of his wings. And then we were falling. The dragon's large body crushed the platform the men were standing on, taking down most of them with us. His wing tangled in a tree trunk, catching the branches in the flaps of his wing. He pulled it in to avoid the injury and instead sent us falling down onto the forest floor in a mighty crash of branches and wood.

I was thrown from his back, landing hard on the mossy ground of the forest floor. A rock smashed against my head and I gasped, spots in my eyes as I tried to stay conscious.

Overhead, an avalanche of trees came down on top of us.

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**I am the one writing this and i get so anxious whenever Hiccup gets close to freedom. it really is heartbreaking to watch. It's even heartbreaking to write. I can't imagine being so close, imagining you are going to be free and then- crash... =( I am pure evil I have decided. I am not giving poor Hiccup a break!**

**Maybe one will come. Or maybe... not the kind of break he wants ;D**

**Mini chapter coming soon! **


	8. I Lay Still

**This is more of a transitional chapter than anything. I wrote it last night. It was never supposed to be a chapter at all but the words were flowing, ya know? I hope you enjoy it. This is more how I usually write my one shots so it's a lot more emotional but I hope that's okay. We are slowly but surely pushing little Hiccup to his breaking point. That is to say he has not reached it already.**

**Read, Review, Enjoy**

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I lay perfectly still as the world came down around me. Where could I have gone? I was laying on my back, trees and branches crumbling on top of us and bouncing on the forest floor. The sounds of crunching and snapping filling my ears like the thunder of a storm.

But I lay still.

When the avalanche had ended and I had managed to dodge the largest tree trunks, I considered myself lucky. I didn't know how I did it. Maybe my size had worked to my advantage. But the larger trunks had scattered around me, missing my frail body completely. Just one of them would have killed me in an instant, but I wasn't hurt, at least not from the avalanche.

But I lay still.

Even when I turned my head to the side, glad I was not paralyzed from the fall, feeling fresh blood ooze from a gash on my head I managed to stay conscious while my heart dropped down into my stomach. I had dodged the trees. But the other prisoner had not. Trunks as massive as himself scattered over his large body, blood dripping from both wings and from the corner of his snout. I swallowed hard, reaching my hand towards him. I could barely reach his scaly side where I felt no heartbeat. There was no rise and fall of his lungs.

I lay still.

But he lay stiller.

I rolled onto my side, vision swimming about me. The sounds of skin on rope hummed in the forest and I knew I didn't have much time to spare. The men would be coming for us. Correction. They would be coming for _me_. Behind me, the dragon laid lifeless, struck dead in a last effort at freedom. Struck dead trying to follow me into the sky. I had been wrong to try and fly on my own. And he had paid the price. The men would be coming any moment and lock me back up. That was it.

I had nothing left in me, tilting my head to blink upward into the darkness. By now, the sun was just starting to peak through the trees above. It was beautiful. The shadows cast down on the floor the same shadows I would have seen laying in a forest in Berk. It was the same. But I did not feel the same.

I felt no joy. I felt no hope or happiness. I felt nothing at all. Nothing but the cold body of the dragon next to me and the stream of silent tears that escaped the corner of my eyes, dripping backwards into my hair where I looked at the sky. Falling to the earth as I had. As I did now…

The men arrived not a moment too soon, grasping onto my arms and dragging my limp body up from the ground. Their shouts were too loud for me to hear. I was lost in my own head, dragged away from the only bit of home I had left. The only bit of Berk that had just fallen right out of the sky, fallen right out from underneath me. There was nothing left to take. They thought they carried Hiccup back to his cell, but they had only carried a hollow shell.

Behind me, the dragon was left in his grave, buried by the forest he had meant to escape into. Buried by a world he had barely known. But I was the one being dragged back into the dark. Maybe I was wrong. Of the two of us in that moment- which of us was freer?

The world around me was moving so fast.

Even so…

I laid still.

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**There you have it, some little Hiccup angst. I don't know what else he has left in him. If anything- I don't think it's much. Let's hope the Vikings find him soon. He is seemingly spent.**

_**Next chapter-**_

_**Coming soon!**_

_**So please do me the favor,**_

_**And stay tuned!**_


	9. Snuffed Out

**You guuuuuyyyyyyyysssssss! There are only 2 or 3 chapters left and I am a very sad frog. :[ This has been such a fun story to write and the fact that you guys come back every day to read the updates makes me so happy! Let's try not to think about the end though. Hiccup hasn't even been rescued yet after all! Poor baby!**

**I'm glad y'all enjoyed the mini chapter. ^^ I like to write things like that. It's like mini epic poems! But we are back to the longer chapters. And for once- we aren't in Hiccup's point of view!**

**Let's take a look at the Stoic side of the world somewhere off in a boat! YEAH!**

**Read, Review, and ENJOY!**

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Hiccup had always been a trouble maker. Not the kind that was disrespectful towards his elders or the kind that tipped cows out in the field- but a troublemaker none the less. He always had his head where it shouldn't be. He always had a hand in something he shouldn't be messing with. And not once did he ever feel bad about it. To him, it was not trouble. It was life and he lived it the way his thoughts led him. If he wanted to go off and explore a tide pool then that was exactly where you would find him. If he thought there was something interesting to find at the bottom of a dark pit, don't for once think he was having a quiet day at home.

Hiccup was not a trouble maker. But it seemed he was always in trouble.

From the moment he could crawl he had never been where he was supposed to be. How many times had he and his wife gone into a panic searching for the boy around the house, only to find the baby in the backyard playing with a beetle? And when she passed, how long would it take for Stoic to learn himself that the only thing that could possibly keep his son from wandering was a leash? The fact of the matter was- he _had _learned. He knew who his son was. He just wished it were otherwise.

Hiccup was all he had left in the world. It wasn't that he wasn't proud. It wasn't that he wasn't trusting. It wasn't that he didn't think Hiccup could rise and achieve anything he put his mind to. It was that there would be a day when he took on more than he could handle and that little tide pool he wanted to explore would just suck him right down to hell.

And the last thing Stoic needed was to lose his only son.

Hiccup was all he had left in the world. Sometimes he did wish Hiccup would go back to his safe life as the outcast Viking. Sometimes late at night Stoic would stay up and listen to the sounds of the dragons on the roof and pray to the Gods they would be gone in the morning and leave his son at peace. But it would never happen. Hiccup would always be in danger. And there was absolutely nothing Stoic could do, even in all the power of a Viking chief, to stop it.

"Are you alright, Stoic?" Gobber's voice came from behind him, soft enough to keep the other men on the ship at bay.

Stoic sighed. Was he alright? No. Not in the slightest. They had been sailing for nearly three days and without a single sign that they were going in the right direction. They had hit a storm that had thrown them off course to the point of circling back around Berk. They had been windless the next day, forced to row the ship for hours on end, and even then the distance between them and his son seemed impossible. The Gods were not playing in their favor. Not in the slightest.

"How do I know he is even still alive?" Stoic said bluntly, eyes narrowing sadly into the horizon. The wind brushed back his whiskers, ocean salt stinging his eyes tauntingly and he turned away from it, looking at his large friend at his side.

"Hiccup is stronger than you give him credit and he is as stubborn as a bull." Gobber's eyes were soft, "He gets that from his father."

Stoic breathed, he did not laugh at the joke but he recognized the effort, staying silent as he looked into the open water.

"Stoic, you're his father. You would know it if something were wrong."

Stoic frowned deeply, eyeing the Viking with terror and heartbreak in eyes that had witnessed too much pain in one life. Eyes that would never be happy again if not for the little missing Viking in Berk. His chest rumbled when he swallowed and managed to breathe out. "Gobber, that's just it. I feel it. Something isn't right."

Stoic breathed, trying to hold himself together. The last thing he needed was to lose it in front of him men and he turned his back on his friend, hiding behind his own body. He could feel it. Far off in the water, something was amiss. He had felt it since late last night, lying awake and watching the waves push against the boat. It was as if someone had shut off a light. Someone had snuffed out a flame deep in his gut and cut the wick away. The candle would never burn again. The Gods had decided it.

Even so, he could barely stand to admit to himself that what he felt was his son. Perhaps something else had gone wrong. He prayed with all he had that that was the case. How much easier would it be to accept a different tragedy? Not the loss of his son. Anything but that.

His large hands tightened on the side of the ship, fingers white and trembling. For some odd reason, he could not keep the vision of Toothless out of his head. The dragon had been so weak when the fishing boat had made it back to shore. His wounds had been shallow but many and the ocean had taken its toll. It was a miracle the dragon had even survived the exhaustion! Yet despite its misery, the dragon was so persistent. It wanted to come along. It was ready to follow the boats into the heart of darkness if only to retrieve his rider.

Stoic was wiser than that. He knew what the dragon wanted. He also knew that Toothless would push himself right into death had he come along. There was no point bringing him and having him die out at sea. It was safer to keep him locked up at the dragon academy, looked after by the children and given the medical attention he needed. He didn't know his son as well as he had hoped. It was heartbreaking now thinking he was saving a stranger, a boy he knew was his son but a boy he knew little of personally. But if there was anything he did know- it was that the Night Fury was Hiccup's everything. Even if they did manage to rescue him and bring him home, if the dragon was not there waiting he would surely die of a broken heart.

Stoic nodded to himself. Yes, leaving Toothless on Berk had been the right decision. But now he was beginning to crawl the walls. He had promised the dragon they would be back in twenty four hours. It would take only one day to track down the island and bring Hiccup home. Who knew? Maybe they would even catch up to the ship? But as things were going, Stoic knew the dragon would be more restless than ever. Perhaps even more restless than himself! And that was really saying something.

Stoic pinched the bridge of his nose as a dark splotch of land grew far off on the ocean line. He breathed, head up and prepared for what they would find. Deep in his gut, another light was snuffed out.

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**:[ :[ :[ what got snuffed out? Hiccup?! OH NO! What is Toothless going to do?! More coming soon. It just needs to be edited. **


	10. To Murder a Dragon

**I am SO SLEEPY! I am writing this note at 1am... so excuse me if I make any spelling mistakes. hahah luckily I wrote this chapter during the day so it should be better off. hahah ima go sleep naow... Zzzzzzzzzzz =.=**

**Read, Review, ENJOY!**

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It was a funny thing, dying. I had always thought it would hurt. I had always imagined the feel of cold claws on my heart, squeezing and squeezing until all the light in my eyes had been snuffed out. Like a candle or a burning coal. I had been wrong. It was nothing but cold. I was heavy in the sand, face pressed hard against each grain until they clung to the sweat coating my skin. It was salty on my parched lips, stinging in the cuts of my skin, but soft under my body.

The wounds that had once made tears brim in my eyes had numbed to a dull throb. I couldn't feel them anymore. There was nothing but a dull ache to remind me I was even hurt at all. But my skin was so very hot. My vision so very dim. Or perhaps that was just the blinding shadows of the cave. I hadn't a clue. All I knew was I was no longer in agony and it was all that mattered.

Even so- deep in the pit of my stomach something did hurt. Or not so much hurt but tug. It squirmed around inside of me like an enraged animal. It pushed against my ribs, urging me to rise to my feet and fight. At first I had answered its calls. My body writhed on the ground in an effort to take control and push myself from the dust and grime. But I was so weak, and the stone floor was so inviting. The rock was cool against my feverish skin and slowly I found myself give into stillness, my body curled on its side and my eyes unblinking.

So this was death.

It was nothing that I had imagined.

Then again, I had never imagined I would die so young.

I would have liked to say there was so much I had left to do, but in truth there wasn't. I didn't plan on marriage. I wasn't very smooth with girls and most girls didn't care for me anyways. I didn't plan to take up my dad's place as chief. I didn't plan on breaking any records or settling any scores. I didn't need revenge on the dragon that took my leg for he was already dead and gone. There was nothing I wanted to live for. No reason to stay. None but one. No reason expect to see Toothless one more time. To sit on his back and ride into the sky like we did so easily. To be reunited with my best friend just once more. It was as good a dream as any. It was as good a last wish as I could grasp.

But it probably would not be enough to keep me fighting.

My body heaved as I tried to breathe and I coughed droplets of blood into the sand. For the first time since I had arrived in the prison, I was still enough to notice the walls of my cell, stained a terrible bronze and brown color and patched with the inner artwork of prisoners long passed before me. I would not be the first to reside in this cage. I would not be the first to die here.

The men standing outside of my prison talked in hushed voices, eyes occasionally tilting my way. I had so many things to say to them. So many little quips and cracks in response to their eyes. But it was no longer worth the effort. The pure movement of my jaw seemed impossibly exhausting and I focused instead on the light draws of the stale air around me.

I didn't move when the chief entered with his adviser; that hand printed face full of all the rage I did not understand. Sunken eyes locked on me, chewing his gums lightly in thought before speaking much too quickly for my ears to process.

"You fail." The adviser explained, translating for me. "Kill only dragon. Kill many men"

My heart pounded softly against my rib cage. No. I didn't want to hear it. If anything in me still ached at all in pain it was that very thought. That I had killed the dragon. Had I? Had it been my selfishness that had ended him? Or the years of turmoil and unspent afternoons? I felt a sharp tug inside of me and I wished to let it out. But there was no outlet. I had nothing left of me yet the idea that I had been responsible for the murder of such a gentle being was eating me alive.

What had this dragon done to deserve this? To deserve anything? He was just a creature- and perhaps had fate turned in favor of him he would have lived. Perhaps if favor had turned in favor of me I would live too. But fate was not on our side. There was nothing left to hope for. If the dragon had died- maybe it was a sign. Maybe it was just meant to be. Maybe I was a murderer and needed to die.

The dragon had not passed while sitting alone in his prison. He had died while I forced him to fly us to freedom. I had a hand in his death. I would take his blood with me to my grave.

_No!_

__That sharp pang inside me grew louder.

_No, Hiccup!_

I had not killed the dragon. No. It wasn't me. It was them. It was years of torment and starvation. It was years of what they had dealt me in just a couple of days. I had no hand in his death. That was what I needed to tell myself. What I needed to believe to stay sane. Was the dragon still lying on the forest floor? Would his bones still be there tomorrow or would the eyes of the scavengers I had seen roaming the forest floor take those too?

The dragon would disappear. He would be taken and scattered among animals and beasts. He would be erased completely as if he had never existed. As if he had never lived at all. I would be the only thing that remained of him. I would hold the only memory.

And soon enough, even that would be wiped clean.

It didn't make a difference whose fault it was. He had died and I had been a part of it.

"We no use for you more." He said brokenly, frowning now. The chief backed up, pointing to the cage as the guards put on watch unlatched the newly set bars, drawing blades of sharpened animal bones.

I made no move to fight, eyes wide open and staring at their bare feet when they approached me. There was a hard kick to my stomach when I did not rise to my knees. Another kick when I did not shout in pain. A third kick to prove a point.

But still I made no move. They could beat me as much as they pleased. But there was no way for them to break my any more than they already had.

They grasped onto my arms finally, lifting me so that I was upright, knelt before the chief. My head hung limp, greasy hair creating a curtain in front of my eyes. I could not get Toothless out of my head no matter how hard I tried. I could hear his purr; feel the hard smoothness of his scales. But I was all dried up. I had no more tears to cry. The dry streaks left in the grime of my cheeks were evidence enough. I was spent, a well without rain. And I could only let my heart eat away at my insides to allow the pain an escape.

_I'm sorry, Toothless, my friend. But I'm not coming home. You'll have to learn to fly without me._

The chief stepped forward now but I did not see him come. I could only hear his voice and the sharp touch of a blade against my throat lifted my chin. I stared into his sunken eyes, my own dim and lifeless. My eyes never left his even when he dragged the sword down to my chest, aiming for my heart. It was a heart that beat violently in my silence, threatening to burst from my ribs and impale itself on the blade. A heart that echoed the very essence of my pain.

He could have it. It was already broken.

_I'm so sorry._

And the blade fell forward.

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** It is a little bit short I know and I apologize. I work alot more hours during the weekend so I don't have as much time as I did during the week. Of course though I couldn't just leave y'all hanging! Next chapter just needs to be edited! Coming soon!**

**Much love and hugs!**


	11. No White Lights

**Dear Cliff hanger above! This is a reference not only to the story leaving poor Hiccup stabbed and dead- but also to a new cliffhanging earring I just bought! Absolutely no reason to tell y'all about it but I love it and I want everyone to know what I work every night to buy. XD lols**

**ALSO- there was some questioning about the name "Stoic/Stoick" and the spelling. Truthfully in the books it is spelled "Stoick" with a "k" But for the movie, there are varying sites that promote him as "Stoic" with a dropped K. The live arena show for example has him listed in most pamphlets as "Stoic" (tnonline) While depending on if you are on a review site (nzherald) or wikipedia, the K is either there or dropped. I suppose it would have been safer to just go with the book version. In my first chapter I originally had him labeled "Stoick" but later went back and changed it due to my doubts on the spelling with the K. I decided after my many varying results on the subject that I would spell it "Stoic" throughout the entire story just to keep some consistency. I use the version "Stoic" completely out of preference because... to simplify it... I think it looks cooler to read on paper. =] **

**ALSO ALSO- I refer to the large dragon hiccup fights as the "Red Death" as he appears in the movie and not the "Green Death" as in the books. This is again out of preference. =)**

**AND THIS HAS BEEN A MOMENT OF SLEEPY RESEARCH CLARIFICATION!**

**Anyhoozle! Back to business!**

**READ, REVIEW, ENJOY!**

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The last thing that I saw before death took me was my father. It was how I knew I had died. The blade fell. I felt the very tip pierce my chest and then there was nothing at all. The hands on my arms disappeared. The bite of yellow fingernails on my flesh vanished. I barely felt a thing after that. All I knew was that the blade fell and as it did so did I.

And I saw my father. It was an odd vision. In my last moments of life I had not even been thinking of him. But perhaps he had been thinking of me. I hadn't a clue. All I knew was that one moment I was alive, the chief bent over me. And the next he was gone and I knelt face to face with Stoic the Great.

He did not look so great. His eyes were terrified and broken, his body hunched into itself as if he had been sleepless for days. In that moment, I knew he had been thinking of me and my heart was put to rest. I had been wrong. The clouds of fear had blinded my heart and mind from the truth. He was my father. My family. Of course he knew I was gone. Of course he had come for me. Even if he had not made it in time.

My body crumpled to the floor and he caught me before I hit, scooping me into his large arms. His grip was uncertain, unable to find a place to rest his hands that would not hurt me. It was an odd thing for a hallucination to do. After all he had no reason to fear. I was already dead. Nothing could hurt me anymore. No more beatings and whips. No more blood needed to be spilled. I was dead and the smile that hit my lips was one of peace. This was it.

"Hm…" I whispered, voice sore and raspy. "No bright lights."

This was nothing as I had imagined death. I knew I had to be dead. The chief had stabbed me. He had held that terrible blade directly to my chest and pierced the heart that had beaten within. But my body still throbbed. My throat was still aching with thirst.

And my father was crying.

_I deserve this_. I thought with a slight twitch of my head._ Yes. I deserve this. In all my life I have never killed a dragon. That's a lie. I killed the Red Death but it had threatened my family. It had threatened the other dragons! No. I didn't kill dragons and now that I have I'm going to die. I deserve it. It's karma for what I have done. To think, at one point in my life I had thought killing a dragon would make my life not take it. It really was my fault. But at least the dragon isn't suffering anymore. And now I don't need to either. _

_I have only ever killed the Red Death. But it had threatened my family. Oh Gods, my family. Toothless and Fishlegs and Astrid. Gobber and my dad. All of them. Will they find my body? Or will I be thrown out and wiped clean like the dragon had been. Will they ever even know what had become of me? Will they ever know that I had been thinking about them on my way to the afterlife? Probably not. I'm alone after all. Just like I'm always alone. Little Hiccup who can't take care of himself. Little Hiccup... And now I'm nothing at all. I mean- even less nothing than before I died. _

_But it's alright now. I deserve this._

I blinked out of my semi consciousness at the sound of a thud. From behind the vision of my father I watched two bodies fall to the stone ground. The guards. Their bodies lay motionless, skeletal forms laid to rest on a prison floor where they belonged. And just at their side with the body of the chief, his blade still frozen in his lifeless hand. That awful white blade. With narrow eyes I took note of the blood along the bone weapon. Or the lack of blood to be more accurate. Only the tip, the first inch of so, was stained with the crimson liquid. The rest was clean, pristine like nothing else in this world.

I looked down at my chest. Blood blossomed over my heart but already the wound was slowing to the trickle of a light flesh wound.

"Hiccup. Hiccup look at me. Answer me, son."

I had not even realized my father was speaking. So I had not been stabbed? My heart had not been pierced!? I eyes the bodies on the floor, they were nothing like what I was feeling. Those bodies, they were dead. I was something else.

So then this man over me, the arms that cradled my limp form like a baby against his chest, it was really him. He was really here. He was not only here but he had killed the chief. He had killed the adviser. My torturers. He had killed the hands of the whips and the fists that had beaten me day after day. He had killed the mouths that had ordered my death. He had killed the murderers that had shot down my dragon.

My father…

"You came…" I whispered through lips cracked and bloody, trying to keep my eyes open long enough to witness this moment. Sleep sounded so appealing right then. How long had it been since I was safe? How long since I had felt able to close my eyes? I couldn't even remember sleeping. Only forced unconsciousness. But now it was like all the cares in the world had been taken. I didn't need to fight anymore. I didn't need to spend each waking hour on guard. My body was limp in his large hands, sweat plastering my hair to my forehead.

He wiped the strands of greasy hair from my eyes, the pad of his thumb rubbing a spot of dirt caked on my cheek. "Of course I came, son. We're taking you home."

"Dad..." I coughed, drops of blood on my lips and the taste of copper in my mouth. "...dad. I did something. I did something bad..."

His eyes softened and he shook his head. "Shh... enough, Hiccup. Rest."

"Dad..." I tried again. I could feel the darkness pulling at my consciousness and I fought it back. I needed to tell him. I needed to get it off of my chest. But my thoughts were ebbing away, swallowing my whole into the abyss. I opened my mouth to continue but no words came out, my jaw working up and down like a broken gate.

"Son." Stoic said with a crack in his deep voice. "Rest."

It sounded like an order and I accepted it as one. That was my father. You could never get away with anything that wasn't on his agenda. But that was okay with me. I would take my father over my kidnappers any day.

His lips were moving again now but I couldn't hear him, my head felt as if it had been dunked underwater and the world began to melt away, slowing and blurring and dimming until I was just a shell. If he said anything else, I didn't know. The corners of my vision were going dark while my father's face grew more and more distant, peering at him from a hundred miles away. When he scooped me gently into his arms, lifting my body from the sand, I could only just hear the steps on the forest floor. When we had loaded onto the ships, I could barely just smell the salt hitting my face. When I was set out flat and swaddled in blankets and furs, I could just barely feel the tilt and turn of the sea.

I was going home. It was over.

Everything was over.

"_Home…"_ I murmured. If I spoke out loud or had just thought the sweet word I would never know. Either way it felt warm and inviting on my lips and I settled down into the comfort of sleep.

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**YAY! HICCUP IS ALIVEEEEEEEE! I could never kill him. Actually- i'm surprised I didn't. Usually I write tragedies so it's a shocker he lived to tell another tale. hahah Lucky boy I'm feeling merciful today.**

**Next chapter up probably later today. =] SEE YOU THERE!**


	12. When You Lose Your Will to Fight

**HEY! I really appreciate seeing some new reviewers online! It's great to hear from lotsa new faces. Shout out to TheGuardian'softheFishBowl for a review that kicked mega review butt and made me laugh quite a bit. hahahah (you did not scare me... to badly. lols)**

**And Yesssssssss Redkenja! There is always room left for tragedy. ;) We'll have to wait and see lovelies!**

**=)**

**Read, Review, ENJOY!**

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"Gobber!" Stoic stormed onto the deck, panic and frustration deep in his eyes. This had been a day of miracles. They had reached his son, they had saved him from a fatal execution in the very last instances, slid by on the skin of their teeth, but it wasn't over yet.

The moment Stoic had pulled his son into his arms the clock had begun to tick. His skin had been feverish to the touch, sweat and grime coating his body until Stoic could barely see his son at all underneath. And the blood. There was so much of it. It covered his shirt, a wound that had been ignored far too long festered across his rib cage, streaked red and puffy like a hundred bee stings.

And those eyes.

Hiccup had been unconscious as soon as they had moved him off the island, but it wasn't the unconsciousness of a boy who had been through too much. It was the unconsciousness of a man just waiting for death. He pulled those eyelids up, examining eyes that held no light, sunken and dark with despair and fatigue. How much longer could his body hold on if it could hold on at all?

This day had been a day of miracles, and it seemed they needed just one more.

"Gobber, I need you in here… now!" He ordered gruffly, disappearing below deck once more. His large friend followed with a grunt. They were rowing as fast as they could back to Berk but it was taking quite a while as they worked against the wind. It would not take as long as it had to find the island but every minute that ticked by was a minute less that Hiccup had to live. He needed stability. He needed a real doctor- something they should have brought with them on the journey in the first place. A dozen heavy Vikings did no good to help an ailing boy.

He lay shivering on the wooden bed, tucked under so many blankets and furs that his body was barely visible. Even so- he shook with chills, teeth clattering. Every so often he would jerk and groan out in agony and Stoic would mimic the twitch, pain evident in his own eyes mirroring his son. It was painful to watch. The boy was so small, so thin. He was only a child. Yet he had suffered injuries that extended farther than they could understand. The welts and lacerations across his chest and back had scabbed over but the pain of the whips was still there in the scars it was destined to leave. Both mentally and physically- the child was spent.

"He is getting worse." Stoic said softly, watching his son writhe in the bed. Gobber ignored him, going to the boy's side and lifting the blankets. He was no doctor but he had suffered many wounds himself. He knew how to handle things. He had faced infection first hand and of all the men on the ship- he became the most qualified by default.

They had cleaned the wounds as best they could without the proper supplies, getting the grime off of his body and keeping the scrapes clean, but it seemed the damage had been done. His fever had risen to levels they could not control. The infection was already spreading. Gobber pulled up the pad of bandages they had pressed against the boy's side, the worst of his injuries. The wound bled softly, leaking unnaturally into the sheets.

"Has he eaten anything?"

Stoic shook his head. "He had a bit of water when we first got him settled but he's not been awake enough." The Viking stood over his friend's shoulder as Gobber removed the pad of bandages and replaced it with a fresh one. He dipped a rag into the bucket of water by his bedside, wringing it out and folding it into a nice rectangle to place over the boy's eyes. His squirming quieted some but the body was still restless on the bed, moaning in agony.

"This is the best we can do until we get back to Berk. The healers will help him once we get there. But until then- we can only look after him and pray to the Gods things don't get worse." He didn't censor the truth. Hiccup was in bad shape. They all knew it. It was as plain and obvious as if someone had painted it in the sky. If he survived the night…

Stoic shook his head, terror in his eyes. "What can I do?"

Gobber frowned, placing his good hand on the chief's shoulder comfortingly. "Stay with him."

The night was suffocating in the ship. The light rock and ride of the boat resting over top a silent sea made Stoic sick to his stomach in a way that had never affected him before. But perhaps it wasn't sea sickness that was overcoming him. In fact he was certain of it as he sat brokenly at his son's side.

They would be arriving at Berk in the morning. But Stoic was getting more and more anxious and Hiccup was getting more and more distant.

He watched as his son's hands grasped tightly at the sheets, twisting them in white knuckles as his eyes screwed shut in pain. His teeth chattering and his skin soaked in sweat. Stoic reached awkwardly to take his son's hand and then thought otherwise, instead resting it on his bedside. "It's alright, Hiccup. It's alright."

He swallowed, fingers trembling as he reached and brushed his son's hair from his forehead. It was gentler than he had ever been in his life but his son was so fragile underneath his touch. As if he would shatter if he was too rough, a little glass doll.

"Son… it's alright." He repeated when the boy's mouth opened in a silent gasp of pain.

Hiccup's green eyes shot open and he shifted under the covers, squinting sideways at Stoic at his bedside. Stoic drew his hand back from his son's head, watching him lightly. "Hiccup? Can you hear me?"

Hiccup blinked at him, chest heaving with each breath. "M… mom?" He whispered softly, air rasping through his throat.

Stoic felt his heart drop. He was hallucinating now. The infection was getting worse. Hiccup had never even known his mother. Yet he called for her then where he lay panting on the bed, glazed eyes rolling back and forth in his head. "No son. It's me."

"It hurts, mom. I can't do this."

"Hiccup-"

His son's eyes went wide and he reached a blind hand outwards. Stoic grasped it tightly, squeezing to let him know he was there. Hiccup continued distantly. "But I have to. I need to get back to Berk. I gotta find Toothless. He's missing."

Stoic felt his body begin to tremble. It was torture watching his son speaking to himself. It was torture seeing the sickness spreading to even his mind and he felt the need to vomit, turning his head away as his son continued.

"Where are you? Why won't you answer me? It hurts. I don't want to be alone. I'll do better. Mom!"

Stoic wanted to leave. He couldn't watch this anymore. He couldn't sit and witness his son's insanity. He rather die. He rather be stabbed a hundred times, break every bone in his body, be trampled by a dragon, burned at the stake, than watch his son squirm pitifully in the bed. His chest heaved, letting out a gasp of pain as his body arched up off the bed, jerking to the side as his fingers tangled into the sheets in a death grip. Slowly, Hiccup's eyes came more into focus and he looked into Stoic's eyes for the first time since he had been rescued, holding all the fear and haunting torture there in that one look.

"I don't want to die…" He gasped before his eyes rolled back into his head and his body fell still. Silent. Someone had blown out a candle and suddenly there was only darkness.

"Hiccup?" Stoic swallowed, reaching forward and feeling for his son's pulse, tilting his head to the side. "Hiccup?!" There was nothing. No signs of life. No breath from his lips or rise and fall of his chest. Right there on the bed, his son was losing the battle. Right there at his side- his son was dying. "NO!" He shouted in terror, standing so quickly that his chair toppled over backwards. He tore the blankets away, putting both his hands over his son's chest and pressing down hard.

He remembered the day Hiccup had been born. He remembered looking at that little boy in his arms and wondering where he had gone wrong. He was not meant to be a father. He had no idea what to do with such a little creature. His hammer had been larger. The babe fit into the palm of one of his large hands. But that tiny hand reached up, wrapping around one of his sausage fingers and his heart had melted. He remembered being more terrified than he had ever been in his life. He remembered wondering what to do now? Now that he was responsible for not one life but two?

Once, twice, three times Stoic pressed against his son's thin chest…

He leaned and blew air into his son's lungs, pinching his nose.

The day his wife had died had been the worst day of his life. Hiccup had been too small to understand. He recalled how irritated he had been at the little toddler when the boy was so happy and wanting to play. He remembered yelling at Hiccup that night when the boy did not understand what had gone wrong. And when Hiccup had begun to cry he remembered seeing his wife's face in him. He looked so much like her. He had the same freckles, the same smile. He had the same tears. Stoic had held the little boy against his chest in the comforts of their home and promised him that nothing else was going to happen. He would protect him. Hiccup was all he had left of his wife.

Once, twice, three times. Hiccup's heart did not respond.

Hiccup just would not stay out of trouble. The day he had lost his leg had not been the first time Stoic had thought he had lost his son. The boy was always getting into trouble. Before they had started befriending dragons, he had always been in danger that Stoic could not control no matter how hard he fought to protect him. No matter how many times he told him to stay put he was always in the line of fire. And Stoic had been so angry. Not because his son did not listen to his orders, but because he was truly afraid that one of those days, Hiccup would not come back to him.

He breathed for his son once more as the door flew open and Vikings entered behind him. All in a flurry but none with any clue how they could help.

Stoic ignored them. Pushing once, twice, three times, four times…

"Stoic..." Gobber said softly.

Stoic did not hear him. His tears threatened to overflow, prickling his eyes. "Five… six…" He counted hopelessly as the heads behind him bowed in fear and acceptance. Stoic wouldn't have it. "I won't." He said gruffly with a voice throaty with emotions. "I won't lose my son!"

He could not let his son die. He had promised him the night he had lost his wife. Hiccup was all he had left. He was alone without the boy. In his whole life he had never seen a child more thin and small. He had never imagined a Viking as truly tiny as Hiccup, but deep down the boy was more resourceful more cunning and full of all the life that he wished he had. He was a magnificent son and one day would make a magnificent chief. Stoic new it to be so. He knew it deep down in his heart. His son was an amazing boy.

He was an amazing boy and Stoic was failing him.

Seven times. He breathed for him. One. Two…

Hiccup took a breath on his own, his lungs expanding and falling slowly as they had before, his pulse slowly returning to a constant rate. His skin remained pale. The whiteness of his lips a constant now. But he was breathing. It was all that mattered. He was alive.

Stoic fell down beside the bed, panting for air that wouldn't come as his own heart threatened to halt in his chest.

"I… I failed you, Hiccup. I'm so sorry. Just hang in there, son. Be strong."

But he knew his words had fallen on deaf ears. Hiccup was losing his will to fight.

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**...Hiccup... this... *sniff* poor baby**

**Next chapter coming soon! =D**


	13. A Side I Never See

**YOU GUYYYYYYSSSSS! This story is almost over! Only 1 or 2 chapters left! I really don't know what I'm going to do when this if over. I'll try not to think about it till it comes.**

**For now, I've got some business to settle with little Hiccup. Let's see how the patient is doing. Shall we?**

**Thanks Ani! Another shout out to you and Syai!**

**Read, Review, ENJOY!**

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I had thought the pain was over. The moment I lay in my father's arms, looking up into his face from the floor of my cell, I had thought that was the end of it. Everything would be taken care of. It would be okay. But it was not okay. I didn't even remember the trip back to Berk, something that I was thankful for to say the least. The way people talked about it- I had not been in good shape. But I didn't remember it for a reason. I had been hurting. I had been sick. The healer had told me my body had cleared the thoughts away to protect me. I didn't want to remember the trip. The only down part was it had not cleared the memories of the entire ordeal.

But the pain was not over. The grime was gone. The torture long left behind. But the pain continued every day and every moment. He couldn't sleep a night. He couldn't sit upright in bed. It was as if every limb was weighted down. Every thought brought tears to his eyes. The torture was over. But the pain had just begun.

I hissed, squeezing my eyes shut when a stinging passed up my spine.

"Sorry." My father apologized as he propped me up. He had no reason to apologize. He was only doing his job. My stiches had to be removed so that my wounds could fully heal. I had no grasp of how long I had been unconscious once we had gotten home. All I knew was one moment I was sliced open and covered in grime and when I woke I was clean and slightly less sliced open. "Just a little… there!" Stoic said, cutting the last of the stitching free.

"How does it look?" I asked dryly. My wounds throbbed in agony but I ignored it as he set me as gently as he could back on the bed.

"Hmm…" He grunted thoughtfully and I knew the answer was not one I wanted. "Just be glad you're alive." He continued, avoiding the question. "For a while we thought…" His voice trailed off and I nodded. I had been unconscious for quite a while. It seemed I had gone into shock the moment we had arrived at Berk. The coma I had been in had been so deep that the healer feared I would remain a vegetable for the rest of my life. I was gracious I was not. I was also gracious that my friends and family had not given up on me while I lay in the dark. Had Stoic been less determined or my friends less hopeful, I would not be lying there that afternoon, talking and breathing like any recovering boy.

Still, the pain in my father's eyes showed clearly. It had been a rough time on him. Every single day waiting for me to open my eyes and praying to the Gods that I would. Every day being let down until just a day ago. I swear I have never seen that man so happy.

"Can I see Toothless?" I interrupted his thoughts. I didn't want him to go anywhere dark. I didn't want him digging himself a hole remembering those uncertain days before. Whatever I said, it worked and he cleared his throat, standing from his chair and pacing to the bedside table.

"He should be here soon." He set down the blade he had used to cut the stitches free. "We've been keeping him locked up while you healed." He explained. "Soon as we got back it's like he knew you were around. He's been wild. Nearly pulled Gobber halfway across the island!"

I grinned at this. Some of my friends had come to visit when I had first come to. The twins had thought it hilarious how the little black dragon had reacted while Astrid- not so much. Toothless had escaped from the Dragon Academy where he had been held. Apparently he had needed to heal himself and had been held back so he would not follow me into danger. I was thankful for it. I knew Toothless and I knew he would have wanted to come to me no matter how bad off he was.

But he had known I was on Berk even before the ship had landed and he had escaped. There was no stopping a terrified and determined dragon from his best friend. He had escaped and come to me. And when he saw how much pain I had been in and the Viking men around me- his first thought had been that they were hurting me. When they lifted me from the ship and I had screamed in pain he had been at my side, fighting off everyone who tried to lay a hand on me.

He had not known it, but he had only been doing more damage to me. I needed medical help and he was only trying to keep me safe. Even so- the Vikings had to wrestle him away from me for my own good, locking him up in the cages we had once used during Dragon Training. It wasn't his fault. I didn't blame Toothless for anything. He was only trying to protect me. He would always be there to protect me and my heart swelled in my chest. He had not forgotten about me while I had been gone. He had not replaced me. He would come back to me even when I was useless and unable to fly.

"That's my boy." I said with a nod, trying to relax as best I could in the bed.

Stoic nodded. "He's a good dragon." He agreed shortly. I was glad he did not blame Toothless either.

I swallowed hard. What made a good dragon? I rarely knew a bad dragon. They all had potential for good. It all just depended on how you treated them. I had experience firsthand with it. The grey dragon from the cave flashed in my head and the grin on my face vanished. What made a good dragon, really "Most of them are." I whispered, suddenly downtrodden.

Stoic heard the change in my voice, glancing at me suspiciously where I pouted darkly under the covers. "Is there something wrong?"

I swallowed, not able to lock eyes with him when I spoke. "You mean besides the gaping hole in my side and emotional trauma? No. I feel great." My sarcasm was thick. I think he appreciated it. It was more the Hiccup he knew and not the shell that had come home with him. I was trying to come back to him 100%. I really was trying.

"It's just you've been off." He continued persistently. I wondered if Gobber had told him to be gentle with me. I wonder if someone had told him to talk to me, that I might have things I needed to get off my chest. It certainly wasn't like Stoic to want to talk. He was impressing me on all sides of the plane. "I was just… I mean if you wanted to talk. I mean if you really needed…" he cleared his throat. He was trying but he was no good at this. I valued the attempt.

"Dad. I'm fine." I cut him off, not wanting to watch him awkwardly bumble over his words anymore.

"Right…" He cleared his throat uncomfortably. Searching the room for something to change the subject. His eyes landed on the bowl of stew he had brought to me, barely warm now as it had sat by my bedside table while my stiches had been removed. "Here. Eat this." He said, picking up the bowl and holding it out to me.

It was my favorite but the smell made my stomach churn sickly and my face greened. I shook my head. I was having trouble stomaching much of anything lately. I knew I had to eat. My body was so thin by now that even my normal clothes were hanging off of me and that was saying something. I wouldn't lie. I was a skinny kid to begin with. After all, the Viking in me lacked. But the idea that my normal clothing did not fit me concerned everyone. Even so, I couldn't force it and I frowned. "I'll only throw it up, anyways." I said, turning my head away from it.

Stoic frowned, scooping a spoonful up and holding it to my lips. "You have to try. Your body needs the energy to heal." He said gruffly.

I grasped his wrist, pushing the spoonful away. "Maybe later."

"Hiccup."

I saw the darkness in his eyes and realized it was a reflection of my own. I could see myself there in his eyes, the sunken look of my face, the thinness that tightened against my cheek bones and sucked my skin to my every line. It was like I was not from Berk but one of my captors. I remembered thei faces, their skeletal bodies and the way their eyes were deep in their heads. I was no different, a splitting image and I had to blink away from myself. If my father told me to eat I would eat. If he thought it would help me then I trusted him.

"Right." I mumbled, accepting the spoonful and swallowing carefully. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I took the first bite and I eat two more before my stomach began to bubble and I pushed him away, feeling nauseated now.

"Better every day." I said with a soft grin and a nod of satisfaction.

"That's what you call it?" I asked dryly, rubbing my stomach and trying to hold it down. Just when I had begun to lose the battle, the door shot open and a jumping black dragon leaped in, knocking my father flat on his back and squeezing to my side. "Toothless!" I said happily, hoping with everything I had that he did not jump on me. He seemed to read my thoughts, staying respectfully at my bedside and licking my face affectionately. I rubbed his head, feeling my heart thunder in my chest. "Aw buddy good to see you too!"

How long had it been since I'd seen him? Too long. Every moment I had been away he had been in my head. I had thought I would never see him again. It was almost too true that he sat there at my side that moment. I truly thought I would never see him again.

"He's been missing you every day. I don't know what you feed this dragon to keep him so close." Stoic said, shaking his head in awe.

"He's just… my friend." I said, taking the dragon's head in my hands and looking deep into those green eyes. He purred at me, sensing my pain as he sniffed the bandages on my side. I swallowed, feeling a lump in my throat and telling myself to keep myself together. "We need each other. He knows that." I turned my head away from my dad, trying to focus on anything but the sad dragon at my side. "When you ride a dragon- you have to have each other's backs. You have to trust each other… Look out for each other…" I trailed off, eyes lost in my own head. You need to look out for each other, something I could not do. Something I had failed at. Had the dragon been Toothless, how could I have lived with myself? Had it been he who I selfishly flew into the night... Had it been him I was willing to sacrifice…

"Son?"

"Hm?" I was jerked from my thoughts, looking up at my father who had begun to watch me carefully, waiting for something, anything out of me to hint where I had gone just then. He wasn't going to get anything out of me. Quite frankly, I didn't think he would understand. I didn't want to talk about it. Not to him, not to any Viking on the whole island. "Oh sorry. Just… distracted. Must be the soup." I lied quickly.

Without skipping a beat, Stoic grabbed the bucket by my bedside and held it to me.

I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "No, I'm fine this time. I'll hold it down." I rubbed my stomach. He was looking out for me. It was a side of him I rarely saw. It was a shame it took my near death for it to come out in him but I enjoyed every second of it. He loved me. He really did. He just didn't know how to show it. I cleared my throat. "Um… dad? There was one thing I wanted to…"

I locked eyes with him. What I saw was not what I had hoped. He was my father. He loved me. He really did. But he was still a Viking. He was the broad and brawn that Berk needed. He was a chief and a warrior. But he was not a dragon trainer. He was not compassionate and soft. I didn't fault him for it. He was who he was and I was not going to change it. But talking with him about my ordeal would not get either of us anywhere but miserable. "Never mind. I'm tired. Could you…?" I stopped, looking at the door without saying it. He caught the message anyways and nodded, standing and adjusting his belt uncomfortably.

"Yeah. Of course." He walked to the door, turning to me as if he wanted to say something else but closed his mouth at the last second, rethinking whatever had been on his lips. Instead he settled with looking down at the floor and mumbling out, "I'll come back and check on you a bit later." He shut the door, heavy feet leading down the stairs.

"Thanks." I said softly to the closed door, staring down at Toothless by my bedside. He purred and moaned at me, trying to convey to me how glad he was I was back and how broken he was that I was in pain. I rubbed his head softly, eyes lost and mouth open, trying to blink past the fog growing in my eyes. "Toothless…" I mumbled at him. He responded by nuzzling his large head against the side of my leg, avoiding the injuries and wounds.

It was right there I lost the battle with myself. I curled my legs up to my chest, holding the dragon's head softly against me, and I began to sob.

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**Next chapter coming soon. Might not be up tonight and if so it might be closer to 1am or 2. I really want to spend alot of time on this one. We will see where it goes. SEE YOU SOON!**


	14. Time Will Pass But Scars Remain

**This is... it... It's so sad how far this story has come and now it's just over? It's hard to believe. You guys have been such a spectacular audience sticking with me through the whole roller coaster of a ride. It's awesome when people read the story. It feels even better when y'all come back for more each day!** **Gotta say thank you- You all are what makes this story possible!**

**Here is the final chapter. I hope to write a couple more Hot To Train Your Dragon stories. Probably one shots and probably tragedies as those are more up my alley. I don't write many long stories and definitely not ones where the main character lives. But I love Hiccup so much I couldn't do it.**

**Keep in touch though for my other stories! If you want to see some dragon related sob stories than they will be up sometime sooner or later. As it is- I hope you enjoyed the ride. Please keep all hands, arms and legs inside the fanfic until the story has come to a complete stop!**

**Read, Review, ENJOY!**

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Toothless didn't move an inch while I cried. His body rested calmly at my side, pushing his head into my arms like a burrow. He made no noise besides the occasional moan to echo my cries. He knew. I knew that he knew. I was hurting and I just needed him to be there with me.

I didn't even know how long I cried. The tears fell until my nose ran and I could barely see past swollen lids. I cried until my breath came in deep heaving gasps. I cried while my dragon sat and soaked up my tears. And I felt so weak. My shoulders trembled and I could not stop them. It was over. I was home and it was over. But why didn't I feel like it was? When I had finally halted the tears my fingers shook as I wiped my eyes. But Toothless stayed firm at my side. I shook my head, reaching and stroking his.

"Toothless, I was gone. I was gone and I might not have come back. And you kept waiting for me. It's… it's completely ridiculous. You need to move on if I ever…" I stopped myself, swallowing hard. His large green eyes looked up at me and I knew he did not understand. He was trying. He really was. But I was speaking a whole different language. It was of no use to his ears. I continued anyways, breathing deeply to calm myself. "But… I could never leave you. If anything ever happened I could never." I took his large head between my hands, rubbing under his chin like he liked so much. His eyes narrowed and he purred happily until my fingers slowed and I was lost in thought once again.

"I… I would do anything for you, Toothless." I ground my teeth. "And you would do anything for me. Because you trust me. But… I don't deserve it." I bowed my head low. "I don't deserve your trust. I don't make the right calls. I'm not strong enough or smart enough or… anything. I'm nothing! And I don't deserve…" I snorted, jerking my head away sharply. "If I had waited one more day I would have been rescued and that dragon would have survived. I could have come back for him. If I had just waited and not tried to move on my own. And why did I even move in the first place, Toothless? I knew I wasn't strong enough? Oh sure, look at Hiccup the big strong Viking! Look at Hiccup the brave who saved himself from capture! No! Look at little Hiccup the poor excuse for a resident of Berk! Look at Hiccup the _hiccup_!" I punched the wooden bed with the side of my fist, ignoring the pain there and balling my hands up in the sheets.

"And I don't deserve… to be here. I should have died with him. They should have killed me."

Toothless snorted and I yanked my hand away when he sheathed his teeth and bit me harmlessly. It hurt even so but did no damage. I scowled at him at first but realized with one look in those big green eyes that there was a part of him, as impossible as it sounded, that had understood my words. And he was not happy with them.

I could see it there in his face. I was his and he was mine. We were two of a kind and neither of us could live without the other. He needed me. He needed me to be strong. But I was just so tired of being strong. It was exhausting pretending to be something I wasn't and would never be.

I swallowed, pushing the blankets off of myself and reaching for my prosthetic at my bedside. My fingers trembled as they attached the limb to my leg, something that felt so foreign to me but comforting, like being let home for the first time after being locked in the rain. I relished in the feeling of comfort. Breathing in the air as if it tasted different just having my leg back on. With a determined nod, I swung my legs out of bed, grunting in agony when my wounds protested. But I was alright. I was nothing compared to the physical toll my body had taken.

I pushed out of bed with all my might, mouth open in a silent moan and eyes screwed shut. Toothless rushed to my side, ready to help me but I ignored him. I would do this on my own. I would stand on my own. I was a Viking. I was strong. I didn't need any help!

I finally pushed to my feet, shaky on knees that had not supported a body in weeks. But I was standing and that was all that mattered. With a deep inhale, I stuck out my chin, gritting my teeth as I turned to my mirror and stared into my reflection. I nearly broke down all over again, watching the way the scars moved across my chest. The red, jagged marks zig zagged across my pale flesh. They were everywhere, mauling every inch of my exposed skin. My fingers reached, running along one rough line to the next, feeling the texture of each bump and blemish.

_The man lifted the whip. It came down on me again and again, thorns and spikes piercing and ripping into my skin. And all I could do was lay there, my shouts of pain echoing through the cave._

Little pink memories.

_I rolled to my stomach. I tried to crawl away but a hand grasped my ankle, pulling me back under the shadows. A foot stamped on my wrist and a crack echoed in the dark. I barely had time to register it. "Stop. Please." My begging fell on deaf ears._

Only these were memories I would never forget.

I swayed in the mirror, eyes rolling in my head. Without even realizing it I was falling, the floor tilting sideways and playing tricks on me. At my side, Toothless was there, catching me on his back and stabling me, helping me rise just like he had that day in the water. Just like he had when I lost my leg.

Just like he would every single day from now until forever.

I swallowed hard. This was it. This was why I did not make a good Viking. I was not strong enough to take care of myself. I could not brave it alone. But I didn't need to because I had Toothless. I had Toothless and I always would and together we were a whole. It didn't matter that I could not stand on my own. That was just the way life was. Some people were Vikings, tough and strong. Some people were… well. Some people were me. And I was nobody without my best friend.

I let him help me stand, grasping onto his horns and pulling with all my might, hoisting myself up onto his back. He moaned underneath me, sadness deep in his throat and heart. I sat there by his wings, hunched over on his shoulders in a pitiful position to fly. I sat as if I was getting ready for him to spread his wings and do a lap around the room, something that would have been impossible with the space. But I only wanted to feel him underneath me. I only wanted the familiarity.

My head was spinning now though and I groaned, leaning sideways and sliding off of his back to land hard in my bed. For a split second the room was spiraling, breathing deep to keep myself conscious. Nauseous, I leaned over the side of the bed and threw up into the bucket my father had left, emptying my stomach of the soup.

I wanted to let go of consciousness. I wanted to get lost in my dreams, but my eyes held tight to Toothless. His own large green ones remained my thread, pulling me from the darkness of my dreams. A couple moments passed before I was able to steady myself enough to move. Sliding back under the covers of the bed, I reached and patted Toothless softly.

Better every day. Had that been what Stoic had said? For my own sake I hoped so. For Toothless' sake I prayed so. Maybe in a week I would be able to sit up straight on his back. In a month I would be able to fly again. In six I would begin to sleep through the nights without waking to the screams of a nightmare. However time passed, Toothless would always be there. Every single minute of it. I could count on it.

_Tremble from the skies that fall,_

_With eyes that pray despise,_

_But as the war wages wars._

_The littlest sparrow learns to fly._

I was not even a little sparrow. I knew now why that had been so stupid to Toothless the day I had recited to him the poem I had seen scrawled on the wall. It was because I would never learn to fly. Not on my own at least. I would always need Toothless. And he would always need me.

I was not a Viking. I was not a warrior. I was barely a resident of Berk.

I was nothing without Toothless. I was nothing on my own.

But I never wanted to be.

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**Final Special Thanks to some awesome reviewers who were with me again and again!**

_**TheGuardian'softheFishBowl**_

_**Final Syai**_

_**Ani**_

_**Redkenja**_

_**Shadowvisor**_

**...and every single one of you onlookers reading this now! Much love and hugs!**

**xoxoxoxo**


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